


I want you to be happy

by MyCatIsMyEditor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Discussions of Feelings, Divorce, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Healer Hermione Granger, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Quidditch, Romance, hermoine/ron divorce, the entire wizarding world ships it, viktor krum moves to england, virgin viktor krum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-07-29 01:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyCatIsMyEditor/pseuds/MyCatIsMyEditor
Summary: It's been several years since Vldemort was defeated. Hermione now an acomplished healer is struggling with a marriage that no longer feels right and a desire to engage more with the muggle world. Dinner with Viktor leads her to start questioning what it is she wants and with who. When a slip of the tongue leads to divorce she finds herself taking a look at her life. Which increasingly leads her to look at the man who is still the only person she will fly with.Viktor has loved Hermione for years, but she loved another. So he became her friend and never confessed his feelings. Their relationship became a friendship that only grew deeper over the years. When they strike a deal over dinner he finds himself in England for the year and suddenly able to pursue the woman he loves. But is it right to do so when she is going through so much? Or is it the perfect chance for them both to build something new.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Dinner**

“Viktor.” Hermione approached with a wide smile and outstretched arms.

He couldn’t help smiling back. She gave him a long tight hug and after a moment’s hesitation he returned it burying his face in her bushy brown hair. She smelt wonderful, something sweet and very light that he couldn’t quite place.She broke the hug and beamed at him. He hugged her again and she laughed.

“It has been far too long.” She said taking a small step back to look at him.

“Yes, it has.” He replied.

He had been working hard on his English. He still had an accent but it was much less pronounced thanks to a vocal coach by the name of Herman. He offered her his arm just as he had nearly seven years ago. She laughed again and together they made their way inside the muggle restaurant. They were quickly seated towards the back near some large decorative ferns. It somewhat gave the illusion of privacy as an impeccably dressed waiter handed them menus. 

“Shall we have wine?” He asked and she nodded eagerly.

“I have had an alarmingly busy week and wine would be an excellent way to end it,” she said.

He nodded. She shed her coat and settled back with the menu. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She had grown since their last meeting. She still had bushy brown hair and that delightful smile. Her eyes still had that defiant spark and her mouth looked as kissable as ever.

She caught him looking and he quickly fixed his eyes to the menu before him. He had missed her. Their regular correspondence had been lovely but he had missed seeing her. Not that it had been so very long. They had seen each other several times over the years. Mostly dinners like this when he came to play against English teams, but also for a few weddings. Including her own.

It had broken his heart a little to be there but he’d loved seeing her so happy. Having her smile at him when he arrived, and then later as he danced with her had meant everything. She had laid her head on his shoulder and thanked him for coming. After their dance they’d found a corner and talked for over an hour. Her new husband had had to come claim her from him so they could leave on their honeymoon.

His last sight of her had been as she left, her husband playfully pulling her to the door as she yelled for him to write.  
He scanned the menu letting himself enjoy her presence again.

“I think I’ll try the fish. You’ll want the lamb,” she announced setting her menu aside and grinning at him.

He couldn’t help laughing back. It felt like a fairytale to be here with her having dinner again. 

“How was the hospital today?” he asked. He knew she was up for a promotion and was excited to hear if she got it. 

“I was offered the promotion,” she said with a grin.

“Congratulations,” he said.

“I turned it down,” she said looking very determinedly at her menu. For a second he was shocked but then recovered. 

“Oh I thought you were excited about the possibility.”

“I was. I am. I just-” she looked away. She suddenly looked very tired.

“We had a patient last week, I’m not sure if I told you about them. He had been, traumatized by the war. I guess in a way we all were.”

Viktor nodded.

“It was a hard time,” he said.

“This young man was broken by it. We couldn’t really help.” She returned her gaze to him. “I keep up to date on several muggle medical journals. There was something in one, it might have helped. I don’t know for sure. But none of us were trained in how to do it. So he is now in the mental wards. He’s recovering but I can’t help thinking it could be a lot faster. In the magical world we focus so much on near instant results from potions and spells. I can’t help wondering what we are missing here. Especially around mental health.”

Viktor nodded. 

“As a result I have been considering--” she hesitated then smiled at Viktor and continued. “I have been considering studying psychology, from the Muggle perspective.” 

“That sounds great. If it will make you a better healer why would you not?”  
Hermione sighed and slowly shook her head looking at him sadly. It occurred to him he might be missing something.

“Would it upset your husband?” he asked suddenly concerned.

“Upset isn’t really the word I would use.” She suddenly seemed on the verge of tears and he quickly leaned forwards placing his hand on hers. 

“Hermione, is everything okay between you two?”

She sniffed and looked at him quickly shaking her head and pulling herself together.

“Yes, we’re fine. Totally fine. Just been a long day Viktor.” He knew she was lying. 

“I do not believe you,” he said gently and squeezed her hand. “But if you do not wish to talk about it, we will not. I will not pry.” He sat back.

“Oh Viktor. I-” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “I just, I don’t want to burden you with my personal problems. I haven’t seen you in so long, and it’s such a lovely night. We should speak of happy things.”

He could see she was torn and felt a little like he was intruding. He was her friend, and he loved her. If he was honest with himself he would admit he more than loved her, but that wasn’t the issue here. He would give her the option to talk. 

“We can speak of anything you wish Hermione. But please remember, I am your friend. And I am here to listen to your problems whenever you need. If you need to talk about your husband I am here. Even if it is just to listen.”

Hermione sighed heavily looking at him with sad eyes. 

“It is not burden to hear your problems,” he added. “I wish to help you in any way I can.” He moved back again and signaled the waiter. “So, we will order some food, and a bottle of wine. Then you can talk to me about anything you so desire. I swear it will stay between us.”

  
The waiter appeared, they ordered, and Viktor sat patiently as Hermione looked at him with slumped shoulders. The wine was quickly poured and the waiter disappeared.  
She picked up the glass and took a sip. Then with a small inclination of her head she seemed to make a decision.

“I haven’t really talked about this with anyone you see. I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?” He nodded slowly.

“My mother,” he started “She often told me, as child, if there is something wrong with your feelings, you should tell someone. Just like if you have hurt yourself. Considering your current interest in mental health I doubt you will have issue with her words.”

“There isn’t really much to say in a way,” she said leaning forwards. He very deliberately did not look at the cleavage that had just appeared.

“We still love each other very much. We are still best friends, but there is no-” She waved her hand vaguely as she tried to think of the word. “Romance between us. There was at the start but it disappeared, rather quicker than I would have liked. We fell into routine in a way, both of us leading our own lives, me at the hospital, him with the ministry. We became more and more house mates instead of partners. Then about six months ago I woke up and realised we hadn’t had sex in a very long time.” She smiled sadly at him and he allowed himself look at her rather stunning body. He didn’t make it a leer, more an appreciative examination.

“I am guessing he was hit with a curse to not appreciate you,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said sipping her wine. “If it was just that I would be fine. I don’t need him to-” she waved her hand again “-desire me.”

Viktor frowned a little at this but nodded.

“Okay, then what is it?”

“I think I’m hurting him.” Viktor put his wine down.

“How?”

“By…” She hesitated and he saw those tears return. “Being more successful than him.” A single tear fell and formed a small perfect circle on the white tablecloth. He covered her hand with his once again. 

“A man should be proud of his wife’s accomplishments. Even if they exceed his own,” he said gently.

“It’s not that he’s not proud of me, or pleased he really is. He is always the first to say I am a brilliant witch. But I can see it’s starting to hurt him, to be Hermione’s husband and nothing more. We were all rather famous for a while but now, it’s fading. I think he’s starting to really miss the attention.”  
She took a deep shuddering breath.

“I’m not sure I should be sharing this but he has… issues around being less important, less accomplished. He has always had older brothers who have greatly exceeded him. Anything he did they’d already done first. So for him it was hard to be himself and gain recognition. When we were, fourteen actually,” she gave him a cheeky grin. “He got very jealous of Harry being in the tournament, then I’m guessing you remember his uh-”  
Viktor nodded smiling.

“I do remember his anger at our time alone at the Yule ball. He was rather, well rude.”

“He most certainly was,” she agreed. “He did apologise and learn and grow a bit. But those issues remain. Then war really shoved us all together. If not for it I think we would never have married.” She toyed with her wineglass. “We would have maybe spent a year or two together then grown apart naturally. After all we’ve been through though it’s a bit harder to do so. We were all so close, we still are.”  
She sat back and their food arrived.

  
“So,” he hesitated. “Do you want to stay married?”

  
“Yes. It seems a terrible waste for us to not try and salvage our marriage. But at the same time I am so tired at the idea. I’m now worried about resentment setting in between us. He is such a loyal friend. He would never cheat on me or anything like that. I’ve tried a couple of times to talk about it but he always says he’s fine. And if I’m honest I don’t really want to try and fix it. It makes me feel so awful.”  
She poked at her fish with a fork.

“Stupid man. He’ll never leave me. I’ll have to leave him and it’ll break his heart. Even if he agrees it’s better for us.”

She stabbed the fish and glared at it for a moment before eating it. 

“He will forgive you. You are after all best friends, and always have been. Even though it will hurt he will heal, find another woman. One better suited and they will be happy. And you will find someone who gives you what you need.” He started on his lamb watching her carefully.

“I honestly hadn’t really considered it,” she said shrugging.

“Considered what?”

“Me, falling in love with someone else.”

“You should,” he replied. “You deserve happiness and a relationship that truly makes you feel loved, and wanted.” She looked at him as though surprised. He kept eating.

“How is it that you’ve said what I need without me realising it?” she asked reaching for her wine which was now almost empty.

“I am your friend. I may not be as close as Ron or Harry, but I am your friend. I want you to be happy.” He hesitated for a moment wondering if he should share his feelings for her. 

“I want you to have the best possible life. I want you to be so happy you can barely-” he waved his hands. “Barely handle the joy. I want the best for you. I am your friend and I love you.” He stopped, wondering if he had gone too far as tears were forming in her eyes again.

“I say wrong thing?” he asked his accent becoming thick once more as he became anxious.

“No Viktor.” She wiped her eyes with her napkin. “You said the kindest thing. Something I have forgotten. For Ron and for myself. Thank you.”  
He grinned and she laughed.

“See, talking helped.” She laughed harder and he saw more tears. He reached into his pocket and offered her his handkerchief. She took it wiping away the last of her tears. 

“Okay now I demand we talk of happy things. Tell me of your romantic life.”

He held up both hands.  
“There would have to be one for me to talk about,” he said quickly.

“No one?” she asked returning to her food.

“No one serious,” he lied. He wasn’t about to confess the depth of his inexperience. That truly would be a burden.

“I can however tell you I was offered a place on an English team.”

“Oh, really.” She asked excited.

“Yes, they offered me a great deal of money and I am tempted to take it. Just for one year. I think it would be good for me to try playing with others. I have been on the same team doing the same thing for a long time now and it might be a good idea to learn some new skills. But I probably won’t,” he confessed.

“Whyever not?” she asked.

“Why won’t you study psychology?” he shot back. She laughed.

“If you go study psychology I will join the English team,” he said.  
She laughed and he was happy when he saw that determined flash in her eyes.

“Deal,” she said, holding out her hand. He shook it. 

Unknown to them both a familiar blonde in green had seen them across the restaurant. A discreet photo was taken as they sat together, and a quick quotes quill started moving under the tablecloth. 

Oblivious Hermione and Viktor sat talking long into the night eating, drinking, and swapping stories until closing. They parted with a friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek. Both promising to meet again soon. 

Hermione wandered home that night feeling more herself than she had in a very long time. Turning on the light (”Honestly Ronald why would we not take advantage of electricity”) she entered her house. Dropping her coat and bag on the dining table she drew her wand. The rest of the lights turned on with a flick of her hand.  
She entered the kitchen to find a note from Ron saying he was working late. Unconcerned she headed upstairs and collapsed into their bed alone. A soft thump and a gentle purring alerted her to Crookshanks entrance. He padded up the bed and curled himself against her back purring gently. 

As she fell asleep she found herself thinking not of her husband, but of Viktor. The man, once the boy who had taken her to the Yule Ball. A boy who had kissed her so very gently and called her beautiful before any other. A man who had now reminded her of her own needs, her own desires.


	2. An unwanted conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione talks to Ron and Viktor holds to their deal.

Hermione sat at the dining table waiting. Normally she would have left by now. She’d have gotten herself a coffee at the stall near the hospital and been swapping stories with Magda in the break room. But she was waiting for Ron. He hadn’t come home last night and she needed to talk to him. Ideas of what to say were swirling around her head, she’d even rehearsed it a few times. Hermione checked her watch. He must be on his way home now.

There was a loud crack and Ron appeared in the kitchen looking rather tired and a little worse for wear. A paper was under his arm and his jacket hanging from one hand.

“Ron!” she said jumping up. He gave her a tired smile.

“Hello Hermione. I’m tired, going to head to bed.” He turned towards the stairs.

“We need to talk.” She said. She watched as he sighed and kept walking.

“We’ll talk later I-”

“Ronald Weasley!” He turned and looked right at her. He was clearly tired and now she felt bad for yelling at him. She looked away.

“What is it Hermione?” he asked walking towards her.

“I want a divorce.” She whispered. He took a step back clearly shocked and more than a little hurt. She hadn’t intended to say it like that, or even at all really. She’d written out a speech. But the words had just slipped out. She could see the hurt and shock in his eyes quickly replaced by anger.

“I didn’t realise Rita Skeeter was suddenly telling the truth.” He muttered.

“What?” she asked. 

Ron removed the paper under his arm and threw it on the table in front of her. She frowned seeing the pages folded back scanning the page she searched for what he was talking about. 

Finding it she sighed heavily. Of course Rita Skeeter had been there, and of course she’d gotten a photo. 

She saw Viktor and herself at the table from the other side of the restaurant. They were joking and laughing their picture selves looking so very together. It was one thing she found irritating about the magical pictures, muggle ones were irrefutable, they showed an exact replica of what had been there. It was in many ways easier to manipulate using wizarding pictures influenced as they were by other forces. 

She scanned the article and scoffed. _Has she found herself a new famous man onto whom to cling or has she always had him?.. Does her husband know about these little rendezvous?.. A clandestine meeting between lovers perhaps?_

Seeing that the article was just a piece of fluff she rounded on Ron. 

“This isn’t about Viktor and you know it. I told you weeks ago I was having dinner with him and you said it was fine.” She tossed the paper back towards him.

“You didn’t tell me you’d have a five hour dinner though.” He yelled back.

She sighed heavily and glared at him. He glared back.

“Ron, you and I both know this has been building for a while.”

“Well it’s a bloody surprise to me.” He said throwing himself into a chair opposite her. Deescalation had never worked well with Ron.

“Ron I love you, I want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy.” Viktor’s words seemed to find their way into her mouth “Truly happy not just content.” She rose and came to stand beside him. “And it’s because I love you that I’m divorcing you.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. He hurumphed and turned away. With another exasperated sigh she left for work. She had lives to save, and hopefully coffee to drink.

She rushed out of the changing room in her healers robes. Magda saw her and held out their coffee.

“You look like you got hexed.” She said. Hermione gratefully accepted the coffee.

“Pretty much. How we looking?”

“There was an accident at an apothecary, ten people all with weird combined injuries.” Magda handed her a roll of parchment. “Start with this one, he wont stop screaming.”   
Hermione opened the door to the ward and saw exactly why. With a sigh she drew her wand and got to work.

She thought about Ron all day. Work thankfully kept her busy and Theodora dropped no less than eighteen hints about still being able to change her mind about that promotion. She’d dodged questions all day and more than a few taunts by some of her coworkers about her and Viktor. But finally after a ten hour shift she truly had the space to think. 

She was exhausted as she aparated into the dark kitchen. She looked over and saw the paper still lying on the table, the newer edition sat beside it. 

Sighing she waved her wand sending it shooting towards the bin. Something stopped her, for a second she looked at the paper hovering over the bin. With another wave of her wand she had it come to her. Opening it fully she reread the article, properly this time. A good twelve inches dedicated to her dinner with Viktor all of it suggestive. Rita had been losing her touch in recent years, and her use of cliches was only getting worse. How she’d gotten twelve inches these days was anyone’s guess.  
Satisifed she threw it in the bin. Passing by the table she picked up the newer edition to read in bed.

She glanced down to see something on the floor, it was a letter. She picked it up and saw it was addressed to her. Flipping it over she realised it was from Viktor, and it was opened. Furious she quickly read the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_   
_Our deal still stands. I am in talks with the managers of Puddlemere United so I expect you to be looking at schools. I thought these might help you get started._   
_From Viktor._

She looked looked around and after a moments consideration looked in the bin. Fuming she removed half a dozen brochures of different muggle universities. With a wave of her wand she cleaned them.

She grew madder as she realised Viktor had written in each, circling the psychology courses and adding tiny notes that the course advisors had told him about each program. He had gone to every university and spoken to someone for her. Then Ron had opened the letter and thrown them in the bin.

Now well and truly furious she marched upstairs to find their bedroom empty. She grabbed her clothes and shoved them into her old trunk. With a wave of her wand more and more of her possessions disappeared inside. Her books, her makeup and creams, her small perfume collection, even the art she’d hung over the bed. She stormed into the spare room down the hall the trunk floating behind her. 

She changed and threw herself into the bed. As she lay there glaring at the ceiling she realised something. Turning she buried her face in the bed and breathed deeply. It smelt like Viktor.

She was confused for a moment. How? Then she remembered he had stayed over for New Years. She mustn’t have changed the sheets since then.   
For a moment she considered changing them but the only other sheets were spares for their bed, and they would smell of Ron. She smiled and buried her head in the pillow again. Viktor’s scent filling her nose.

It was pleasant, very woody and she breathed again, something alcoholic. _Firewhiskey_. Harry had been trying to fly in the house while holding a glass of it. He’d crashed into the couch and Viktor had caught the glass. The whiskey had splashed all over his face. Harry had been very embarrassed and deeply apologetic as a laughing Fleur had thrown a cloth at Viktor. 

She smiled at the memory. It had been a wonderful night. One of the few nights she had felt right with Ron in the last year. With everyone in the house it had felt like the old times. 

Except it had been Viktor who helped her to bed in the early hours of the morning as she tried to explain the intricacies of levitation charms. He had laughed and helped remove her shoes before tucking her into bed beside Ron who had passed out an hour earlier.

Smiling she drifted of to sleep stirring only when Crookshanks came to join her.

 

Hermione woke to the sound of someone aparating downstairs. She blinked and looked at her watch. It was nearly midday.

“Hermione? Are you home.” It was Viktor.

Smiling she got up and quickly threw on a robe. 

“Coming.” She called quickly rubbing the sleep from her eyes and heading downstairs tying the robe closed. She wore only a t-shirt and a pair of very short shorts beneath.  
Viktor waited in the kitchen wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a leather jacket. She smiled at him. His habit of wearing muggle clothing whenever they met had always made her feel a little more comfortable. 

“Hello, why are you here?” she asked giving him a hug.

“I am sorry for waking you. I came to show you something.”

She waved away his concern.

“I needed to get up. What do you have?”

He handed her a scroll of parchment.

“My contract for one year with Puddlemere United.” He seemed rather proud of himself. She unrolled the parchment saw it was in fact a one year contract for Puddlemere United. 

“Congratulations.” She said giving him another more excited hug. He laughed hugging her back. A loud crack made them both jump and Arthur Weasley stood there looking a tad surprised.

“Hello Mr Weasley.” Hermione said brightly rushing up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello Hermione, sorry to interrupt.” He said gently hugging her.

“No trouble.” Viktor said coming forwards and extending a hand. Arthur Weasley shook it.

“Viktor Krum if I remember correctly. The Bulgarian seeker.” Viktor laughed.

“Not this year. I just signed to play for Puddlemere United. But don’t tell anyone it’s a big secret.” 

“Oh really?” said Mr Weasley surprised.

“Signed the contract this morning. It’s why I stopped by.” He turned to Hermione. “I’ll send you an owl later this week, we can do dinner.” He hugged her again and after shaking Mr Weasley’s hand once more disapperated.

“What brings you over?” Hermione asked politely. 

“Ron came to see us.” Mr Weasley said gently. 

“Oh.” Hermione wasn’t sure what to say.

“I can’t say I’m entirely surprised.” Mr Weasley added. Hermione nodded suddenly aware of just how that moment with Viktor must have looked.

“Would you like some tea?” she offered moving into the kitchen.

“That sounds lovely.” Mr Weasley took a seat at the table.

“How is retirement suiting you?” she asked pulling tea cups from the cupboard. 

“Very well, very well indeed. I don’t suppose you know much about whipper snippers,” he asked.

“Unfortunately no.” With a flick of her wand the kettle had boiled. She poured the water into the waiting cups. She collected them both and walked to the table. Mr Weasley accepted his cup with a small smile.

“You didn’t come over today to enquire about my knowledge of garden tools.” She said sipping her own tea. Mr Weasley nodded.

“I came to talk with you.”

“Are you here to convince me not to divorce him?” Hermione was suddenly wary. Mr Weasley shook his head.

“No, no I’m not. I do my best not to interfere with my children’s romantic lives. Molly however,” he let the sentence hang in the air and Hermione realised what he was saying.

“I understand she might be a bit upset about the situation.” Hermione offered. Mr Weasley smiled gently.

“She may have mentioned coming around to talk about it with you. I managed to talk her out of it.”

“Thank you.” For a minute they sat together and drank their tea.

“Ron mentioned you were going to be offered a promotion at the hospital.” Mr Weasley said.

“Oh that.” Hermione had somewhat forgotten about that. “I turned it down. I’ve decided I will pursue further studies this year.”

“Oh really, what will you study?”

“I’m going to apply to muggle universities to study psychology.”

“Fascinating.” Mr Weasley said excitedly. A thought occurred to her. 

“Mr Weasley I understand you no longer work for the ministry,” he nodded. “However you have many connections. I might need some additional paperwork to get into university. I already have all my muggle identification however-” Mr Weasley took out his wand and with a wave a scroll of parchment and some ink appeared. He scrawled a quick note.

“Take this to Jenkins in the department of Muggle affairs. Tell him I sent you. I’m sure he’ll be able to give you what you need.”  
Hermione thanked Mr Weasley and he rose.

“I won’t take up any more of your morning.”

He embraced Hermione and she felt sad she wouldn’t see him as much as she had previously. He gave her another smile.

“Oh Mr Weasley, would you please let Ron know I’ll be leaving for my parents today.” Her voice faltered but she continued. “And I likely won’t come back.”  
He nodded solemnly, more to himself than her. He gave her another kind smile.

“I’m sure I’ll see you before long. Ron will come around.” With a final wave and a loud crack he was gone, and she was once again alone in the house.

She felt suddenly very alone. It had been a very long time since she had really been alone. She turned to the rest of the house. Some part of her knew she wouldn’t be returning.   
This house had many memories. Happy and sad. As she looked around she found herself slowly sinking to her knees as tears flowed. Soon she was sobbing on the kitchen floor. For what exactly she wasn’t sure. 

There was a gentle tap then a barn owl flew in. She wiped her face on her sleeve and looked at it. The owl dropped it’s letter and was gone. Picking it up she saw Viktor’s handwriting. Suddenly she didn’t feel so alone.

_Hermione,_   
_I’m sorry if I made things awkward for you. I hope your father in law didn’t get the wrong idea._   
_All the best,_   
_Viktor._

She rose and grabbed a tea towel to wipe her face dry. No time for self pity she had things to do. She looked at the brochures Viktor had sent and smiled. She was going to keep their deal. Her eyes fell on the phone. But first she needed to call her parents. What they would say she wasn’t sure. They’d rather liked Ron. Even if they found him a little odd. She smiled thinking of her mother and dialed their number. 

“Granger household, Jane speaking.” 

“Hello Mum-” her voice broke and she found herself unable to say anything more. 

“Hermione dear what’s wrong? Why don’t you come over for a cup of tea and we can talk all about it.”

Hermione laughed softly and sank to the floor.

“Mum, I um, can I come home?” It hadn’t occurred to her that maybe her parents wouldn’t accept her back home.

“Of course sweetheart, you know you’re always welcome. What’s going on?” Hermione sighed relief flooding her. 

“Ron and I are getting a divorce. I need to come home for a while.”

There was silence for a moment then she heard her mother calling her father’s name.

“Do you need help bringing your things? Your father and I can come with the car and help you take everything.”

“No, I have all I need packed. The rest can wait.” 

The tears started again. Then they just became uncontrollable. Then she was sobbing on the phone. She heard her mother’s distressed call for her father to get the car. Crookshanks appeared with a soft meow settling himself in her lap. His squashed face focused on hers, waiting. She hung up the phone grabbed her trunk and got a firm hold on Crookshanks. For once he didn’t protest. Focusing very firmly on her parents hallway she disapparated.

At the sound of her arrival her mother rushed in from the kitchen to embrace her in a hug. The moment her mother appeared Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She slid to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. 

Her father was there within moments and she felt enormous gratitude towards them both for being there. Neither said anything just held her tight between the two of them as the grief poured out of her.

 

When she was able to get up her father helped her into the kitchen and her mother put the kettle on.   
“Brian get her things upstairs.” Her mother said coming to sit beside her. Her father gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“I'm sorry Sweetheart.” He said.

“Thank you Dad.” She whispered. A box of tissues materialised in front of her followed by a mug of hot tea. A tin of sweet biscuits were quickly pushed into reach. She wiped her eyes and looked at her mother.

Jane Granger was a pretty woman with the same bushy brown hair as her daughter. She kept hers tied firmly back though, “Can’t have it getting into trouble at the surgery.” Her face was round with very even white teeth. She gave Hermione a warm smile as she pushed the mug into her hand.

“Have some tea dear.” She insisted. 

Hermione took a sip. The familiar smells and sights of her parents home calmed her. Her parents had lived in the same neighborhood in the same house for nearly thirty years. Though the furniture and wall coverings changed her parents never seemed to. 

Her father returned and came to sit on the other side of Hermione. He looked rather different from his wife. Brain Granger was a tall balding man with bright blue eyes and a rather square jaw. A vaguely minty smell came from them both.

“Tell us everything sweetheart.” He said gently covering her hand with his own.

“There’s not much to tell, we’ve been drifting apart for some time, you may have noticed, and recently I had dinner with a friend-”

“Oh that one with Viktor?” her mother asked. Hermione blinked a couple of times then remembered her parents got the daily prophet too.

“Yes, he’s been a wonderful friend over the years. We were just talking and it just sort of solidified those feelings a bit. The next morning I asked Ron for a divorce.”

“Asked?” her father gave her a knowing smile. She tried to glare at him but couldn’t.

“I told him I wanted a divorce. He didn’t take it well. So I thought it best to give him some space, just until the hurt eases a bit.”  
Her mother nodded. 

“Perfectly reasonable dear. And you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. You can put your extra stuff in the shed.” She gave her husband a rather pointed look. Brian Granger smiled and nodded.

“Of course, I’ll move my car out, there’s plenty of space in the drive.”

“It’s alright, no need to move anything yet. In a few days I’ll send him an owl and we can arrange everything. Then I’ll look for a place to stay.”

Her parents nodded exchanging a look she knew only too well. They were worried about her. Her mother rose.

“Well I’ll need to go to the store and get something for dinner. Do you have any requests dear, some ice cream maybe?”

“No, thank you Mum.”

“I’ll get some, just in case.” With a final hug her mother left jingling her car keys. As she opened the door a familiar owl flew in. Sighing Hermione took the letter. 

There was no note, only divorce papers. Hermione started sobbing again. Her father took the papers and wrapped her in a tight hug. He stroked her hair and whispered soothing words as her tears soaked his jumper. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more later in the week.


	3. A late night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has dinner with Viktor and learns of his hidden talent.

Hermione sat looking at the divorce papers on the table. Her parents were at a friend’s and she was set to meet Viktor for dinner in less than an hour. She still needed to shower and change but here she was at the kitchen table looking at these papers. She knew why Ron sent them. He didn’t think she would sign them. 

He thought she would back down when she saw the papers. As though seeing the words on a page would make her feel something she hadn’t already felt in the last year.   
She flicked through the pages. She’d filled them out over the last week. Now all it needed was her signature, then his. 

Crookshanks leapt onto the table and looked at the papers too. He looked at her and she gave him an affectionate scratch behind his ear. He pawed at the papers.

“He thinks I won’t sign them,” she said. “He’s wrong.” 

Crookshanks pawed at the pen until she picked it up. There was no going back from that point. It was tantamount to declaring her marriage was over. She looked at Crookshanks and remembered all she had gone through with him. Crookshanks had been there always and he was here now. How sad that the one to stick by her through everything was a cat. She signed her name and dated it. Crookshanks purred.

“Of course you’re happy. Ron always said you hated him.” Crookshanks rubbed his face against her hand and leapt off the table. Rolling the papers into a tight tube Hermione went outside to find the owl still waiting for her reply. She offered it a few owl treats and attached the papers to its leg.

With one last sigh she turned away and headed back inside. She had a nice dinner ahead of her. She might even put on a little perfume, she was after all a free woman now. _A single woman_. Crookshanks wound around her legs. _A single woman with a cat_.

 

Viktor was waiting inside for her. As she approached he rose with a smile and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“You look beautiful,” he said. Hermione smiled. She wore a red cocktail dress. The same one she had worn at New Years but Viktor seemed to like it just the same. 

Neither was in a rush to order so she ordered wine for them. Hermione filled Viktor in on her conversation with Ron and her new living situation. She was about to tell him about the divorce papers when she saw Viktor freeze. She went to look but he placed a hand on hers.

“Your husband just entered with Harry and Ginny.” He removed his hand and slid her wine a little closer.

“Oh dear,” she muttered. “Does he look happy?”

“Uh, no,” he whispered.

“Hermione, Viktor!” Ginny greeted them cheerfully. Hermione let go of the breath she had been holding and rose to hug her friend. Viktor and Harry shook hands.

Ron walked past as though he didn’t see her. He sat at a table and very deliberately looked away.

“Really?” Ginny muttered. “He’s been on a foul mood all day and now he’s damn near intolerable,” Ginny added.

“I signed the divorce papers and sent them back,” Hermione whispered. Harry drew a deep shuddering breath and Ginny sighed.

“Wine I think,” she said giving Hermione’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of the idiot.” Hermione nodded and Harry put a hand on her back. He kissed her cheek.

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

“With my parents until I get a new place.” Harry nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze before walking over to join Ron. Ginny gave Hermione a quick hug.

“I’ll drop in soon and we can talk or go out for something.” She followed Harry. 

Hermione and Viktor took their seats again. It felt awkward now with her husband, ex husband, so close and ignoring her. She toyed with her wineglass and saw Viktor rubbing his neck repeatedly. Neither spoke for a while.

“Should we go somewhere else?” he asked. Hermione nodded and they both leapt up. Viktor dealt with the cheque while she got their coats. The two of them headed out onto the street right as it started to rain. 

The rain immediately started to soak into their clothes. Hermione itched to get out her wand and place some protections but there were far too many Muggles around. Viktor seemed to be thinking the same thing as she saw him looking around at the crowds quickly disappearing inside taxis and restaurants. 

“My new flat is close. I could make us omelets,” Viktor offered.

“That sounds lovely,” she said.

Hermione put her arm in his as the rain got heavier. Walking quickly they ducked into an alleyway and one step later she felt the familiar tightness. She opened her eyes and saw they were in his flat. Hermione looked around in surprise.

It was tiny. There was barely three steps between the couch and the bedroom door. Viktor took off his jacket and hung it on a coat rack, with a wave of his wand it was dry. She turned and felt a warm breeze as he dried her clothes. 

Her eyes moved around the collection of photographs covering the walls to the kitchen. Viktor alone seemed to fill the tiny space as he got eggs out of the fridge and started pulling ingredients from high cupboards. 

“What do you like with your omelet? I have chicken, peas, ham, mushroom, some onion and three different types of cheese.” Viktor looked further into the fridge. “Some spinach also.”

“You have a fridge?” she asked. Viktor nodded. 

“It came with the flat and I’ve been rather entertained by it.” Hermione smiled.

“How good are you at making omelets?” she asked. Approaching the kitchen bench she had to duck her head to avoid several pans hanging from the ceiling. 

“I am the best,” he insisted.

“Surprise me,” she said turning away. He laughed and she heard him muttering spells under his breath as she made her way to the couch. There was no dining table so she sat on the couch and looked at the books he had. 

Quite a few were in Bulgarian, a couple she recognised as spellbooks and a few held recipes. But it was the collection of English literature he had that drew most of her attention.

“Why do you have Sherlock Holmes and Jane Austen?” she asked. 

“It was for my English. Herman insisted I read some more difficult texts.” He emerged from the kitchen with two plates. 

“I went to a Muggle bookshop and asked for some good practice books.” He stepped over the coffee table and sat beside her on the couch. “They sold me those.” He offered her a plate and cutlery.

“Thank you,” Hermione said. He summoned a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured them both a glass and started eating. She copied him. The moment the omelet touched her tongue she knew he hadn’t been lying, he was the best. She had absolutely no idea he could make something this good.

“You really are the best,” she whispered. He grinned back looking very smug.

“I also do desserts.” Hermione looked at him and slowly shook her head. 

“Do not tempt me,” she ordered. He grinned back.

The couch was so small his elbows kept bumping hers as they ate. She started to laugh and couldn’t stop.

“What?” he demanded laughing with her.

“Viktor, why is your flat so small?” Viktor gave her a sheepish look. “Not to be rude but you’re quite well off.”

“It wasn’t about money. I just, I do not need much so having more seems,” he shrugged. “Bad. I hadn’t expected guests.”

He nudged her again.

“Besides it is cozy.” Hermione laughed again and kissed him.

“It sure is,” she said still laughing at him. A split second later she realised what she had done.

“I’m sorry Viktor I-” his entire expression had changed. He was staring at her in shock. 

“I-” she was at a loss for what to say. She hadn’t meant to kiss him really. It had just felt so natural to lean over and press her lips to his.

He kissed her. At first she was surprised but his lips moved against hers and she moaned, her hands coming up to hold his face pulling him closer to her.  
He was suddenly on top of her as she pulled him even closer. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she heard him groan as her nails dug into his back. She pressed herself tighter and tighter against him wanting to feel every inch of that ridiculously hard body on top of hers. Her head was starting to swim from his kisses. 

The sound of breaking china shocked them both. They stopped kissing and stared at each other. Hermione carefully unwound her legs from his waist. Viktor repaired the plates and recovered the omelets with a wave of his wand. They found themselves once more side by side on the tiny couch. Hermione tried to subtly pull her dress back into place.

“I-” Hermione didn’t know what to say.

“I am sorry, it is my fault,” Viktor said. He looked very pale. “You are married. I should not have kissed you. I am very sorry.”

He looked it too. He was shaking a little and he couldn’t seem to look at her. Finally Viktor’s eyes met Hermione’s and she opened and closed her mouth a few times before she managed to whisper.

“I’m getting divorced.”

Viktor coughed. 

“But you are still in love with him. It is wrong for me to…” His voice shook and he didn’t seem capable of finishing that sentence.

“I’m a free woman Viktor. I was the moment I signed those papers this afternoon. I’m not even wearing my wedding ring anymore.” She held up her hand to show him her empty ring finger. 

“I was going to show you this.” She reached into the bag and handed him a sheet of typed paper. “I got accepted into my course. I’m going to be studying psychology, starting next month believe it or not.”

Viktor grinned at her and a flash of lightning illuminated his face. Hermione could see the fear. Fear of what, she didn’t know, but as the light faded so did it.

“I am still saying sorry,” he said holding up a hand to stop her retort. “I know you kissed me first but then I kissed you. Two separate actions. You are going through a difficult time and it is inappropriate for me to do.” He waved his hand between them. “So I am not absolved. I should not have. You have been married a long time. You should have space to be yourself and I should not-”

He struggled for a few moments trying to find the right words. 

“Not interfere with your time. Relationship, mourning time,” he finished.

Hermione looked at him and fought the urge to kiss him again. He was probably the sweetest, most understanding man in her life, and he understood. 

“Thank you Viktor. You truly are a wonderful person.” She picked up her omelet and went right back to eating. He copied her and soon the moment was forgotten as she started talking about her upcoming coursework.

Viktor felt both relieved and sad when he waved her goodbye that evening. As she disapparated he found himself unable to close the door for several minutes. 

A distant siren jerked him back into reality and he closed the door surveying his tiny flat. It hadn’t occurred to him how small it was until she was there too. Her perfume filling the air, her voice so close and her body so- He shook his head. Stepping past the kitchen and around the coat stand he faced the remaining two doors. He opened the one on the left which led him into the bathroom.

The flat was just meant to be somewhere to sleep and read. His family were unlikely to visit. His mother maybe, but certainly not his father. He was still upset at his leaving the Bulgarian team. No matter how many times Viktor had told him it was just a one year reprieve.

The bathroom had only a sink, toilet and a shower. Viktor had expanded the shower by magic but otherwise he had left it alone. He stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the steaming water. 

It wasn’t really that he didn’t expect his family. It was the lack of other guests. He sighed resting his head against the wall. She would find out one day, if he was lucky. Insanely lucky. Lucky in ways he hadn’t considered since he was twenty. 

The famous Viktor Krum; the man lusted after by hundreds of women, number six on Witch Weekly’s sexiest wizard list, the greatest seeker of their time, hero of hundreds of Quiddich matches… was a virgin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we see our favourite reporter again and Viktor has a chance to impress.


	4. The Quidditch match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor has his first match of the season and Hermione runs into Ron again.

It had been two months and three dinners since the kiss and Hermione really thought she should have forgotten about it by now. But she hadn’t. Indeed if not for her studies and work she may not be able to think of anything else.   


Ron’s continued silence and her own reemerging needs made her uncomfortably aware of Viktor. She had taken to pulling six night shifts a week in addition to her studies in the day.   


Staying with her parents was all well and good for a short time but she really needed her own space. Her mother kept asking when she would be home and coming into her room to tell her dinner was ready. Hermione knew she meant well but it was a bit awkward.   


Ginny and Harry had visited a few times and they had all gone out to lunch. Harry had made it clear he was sad about their breakup but had understood. He said he had told Ron as much. Ginny had given Hermione her wholehearted support and kept trying to drag her out to “Start having fun again.” Ginny’s version of fun probably involved some kind of sport or alcohol, probably both.   


So far Hermione had managed to avoid these nights out pleading work. Ginny’s enthusiasm for her moving on was somewhat concerning considering it was her brother Hermione was divorcing. She supposed sport was technically a wholesome activity. Though this was Ginny and that sport would likely involve “just one extra friend” who would just coincidentally be a single man. Then after they would just have to go out for drinks together. Hermione felt tired just thinking about it.  


As soon as Ron signed the papers and replied to her letters they could sell the house. Maybe then they could go back to being friends. After that Hermione might be able to turn her attention towards romance, but not before.  


Ginny it seemed had a different timetable in mind and cornered Hermione in her parents’ living room on a Wednesday evening. Hermione was starting to seriously think she needed to put better wards around her parents’ house.   


“Come on. I checked at the hospital. You have this Saturday free,” Ginny pleaded.  


“Ginny, I’m not really interested in going out and getting drunk,” Hermione replied.   


There were only three types of men Hermione was interested in spending time with; they were patients, family and friends… _and Viktor_. But Viktor was her friend, or was he something else now after that kiss? She really had to stop thinking about that.   


There was a crack outside followed by a very polite knock on the door. Stepping around Ginny Hermione quickly opened it to reveal Viktor. He smiled at her and her heart did a funny little skip.  


“Hello Hermione.” He spotted Ginny and gave her a smile. “Hello Ginny.”   


Ginny grinned back and waved.  


“Hello Viktor, what are you doing here?”  


“I came to see if Hermione might be interested in coming to see my first match this season. Perhaps you would also be interested.”  


Ginny looked from Viktor to Hermione.  


“I didn’t know Bulgaria was playing here.”  


“We aren’t. I have recently joined Puddlemere United. Don’t tell anyone though, it’s a big surprise. The match this Saturday is when we will announce it. A shock tactic.”  


Ginny nodded understanding.  


“The Cannons will certainly be surprised. And that does explain your absence from Bulgarian matches too.” Ginny was now a chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. A big upset like this would be just the kind of thing she’d want to see.  


“We’d be delighted to see your match Viktor. This Saturday yes?” Hermione asked. Viktor nodded looking somewhat awkward now.  


“I was also wondering if you would like to join me for the after party.” He looked at Ginny. “You and Harry as well, it has been some time since I saw you both, well except-” he rubbed the back of his neck.  


“We’d be delighted, thank you Viktor.” Ginny was grinning far too brightly for Hermione’s comfort.  


“Well then, I’ll send you an owl. Good bye Hermione, Ginny.” He hesitated then headed back out the door, disapparating a moment later.   


Ginny wandered casually towards Hermione her hands behind her back and a very smug smile on her face.  


“Here I was thinking you needed a push to find a new man.”  


“It’s not like that Ginny,” Hermione said hotly.   


“Sure sure. Anyway I’ve got practice. I’ll see you on Saturday.”  


Hermione sighed heavily. She waved Ginny off and closed the door resting her head against it.  


“I am getting my own place, and putting better protections around it,” she said to herself.  


“Did you say something dear?” her mother asked from the kitchen.  


 _This week_. She silently added.

  


That Saturday Hermione walked with Ginny and Harry towards the stadium. Dozens of witches and wizards jostled them all pushing forwards to find their seats.   


At the counter Hermione presented their tickets and was told they were in the owners box. They were also welcome in the team change room before the match. Harry was ecstatic about this, Hermione and Ginny less so, but Harry would not be deterred. So the three of them headed towards the change rooms.  


“I think he misses the game,” Ginny whispered as a very helpful security wizard led them through the corridors to their destination.  


The room itself was uninteresting to Hermione. The walls were plain and wooden lockers lined one side but it was otherwise fairly unfurnished. There were a dozen or so people inside all doing something, but it smelt vaguely of sweat and strongly of broom polish. Viktor saw their entrance and hurried over in his navy blue Quidditch robes.  


“Hermione! It’s great to see you. You both as well, Harry, Ginny, it has been a long time.”  


“New Years,” Harry said shaking Viktor’s hand. Harry got distracted by something over Viktor’s shoulder.  


“Do excuse me, I think Wood wants to talk.” Harry walked off to go talk with another player. Hermione squinted and realised it was indeed Oliver Wood.  


“Does Harry know Wood?” Viktor asked.  


“He was the Gryffindor team captain before Harry,” Hermione explained.  


“Angelina,” Ginny said.  


“Oh right. Angelina was captain for a year as well.” Hermione had never been very good at keeping up with Harry’s Quidditch activities.   


Viktor seemed unconcerned by this as he beamed at them both. He looked rather more excited than Hermione had expected. He had always seemed rather serious when she saw him play. Ginny it seemed had also noted.  


“You seem very cheerful this afternoon Viktor,” she said.  


“Oh I am just very excited to play in this league. It is very different, new rules, new people.”   


Hermione realised he was excited because he was having fun. For a moment she wondered just how much pressure had been on him in the international league. He had been so 

young when he started.   


“How are your studies going?” he asked.  


“Oh very well,” Hermione said. “I’ve been rather enjoying myself. Our major assessment pieces are coming up which is a bit stressful but I’ve been rather enjoying myself. My classmates are a bit lax but that’s nothing new.”  


“Excellent. I am so pleased to hear it’s going well.” He turned to Ginny. “We made a deal, she went to university and I joined an English team.”  


“So Hermione’s the reason you’re here?” Ginny asked.  


“Yes, well not the only reason but she certainly helped.”  


Ginny was looking from the grinning Viktor to Hermione with a far too happy smile. A man’s shout drew Viktor’s attention.   


“Time for the pre game meeting. Derek likes to quiz us before the game.” Viktor rolled his eyes as his name was called again. “I will see you out there.” He gave them both a hug and waved to Harry as he passed.   


Harry returned and the three of them with the help of the security wizard once again made their way into the labyrinthine corridors and to the owners box.

  


It didn’t take long for Hermione to realise that for most in the owners box it wasn’t the game they were interested in, it was each other.  


Harry was quickly dragged into conversation with two wizards from the Ministry as Hermione and Ginny made their way to the balcony, which gave them a most excellent view of the stadium.  


It reminded Hermione of the Quidditch World Cup. The stadium was somewhat smaller but the position was the same. Right in the middle and level with the three goal posts. Looking around she saw the commentators box just to their right.   


She and Ginny settled in and waited for the match to begin.  


“Tell me what happened,” Ginny said smiling politely and waving to someone over Hermione’s shoulder.  


“What are you talking about?”  


“The man has invited you and two of your friends to see his debut match in a new league. A league he joined for you. Then he couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole time we were there, and now if he doesn’t wave to you I will be astounded.”  


“We’re just friends,” Hermione insisted.  


“What did you do?” Ginny demanded.  


“Welcome everyone!” the voice of Ludo Bagman boomed over the crowd. Confused Hermione looked quizzically at Ginny.  


“He lost his position, remember,” Ginny said. “He’s been commentating the season. What did you do?”  


“Nothing,” Hermione said.  


She looked away from Ginny pretending to follow as Ludo gave a commentary of game statistics for a few minutes before beginning to announce the players. Ginny gave up and collected a cheese platter from a table behind them. Hermione stayed in her seat and waited as Ludo announced the Chudley Cannons and then Puddlemere United.  


“Wood and Krum!” There was a moment of silence then a roar filled the stadium as they realised just who had shot into the air. Hermione and Ginny clapped along as the whole stadium began to chant _Krum!_ Over and over again.  


He flew past slowing just enough for Hermione to see him wave to her. Then he was shooting off to take his position.  


“Come on, there has to be something going on between you,” Ginny said.   


“We’re just friends,” Hermione insisted.  


“Right, so absolutely nothing of any romantic nature has happened since you and my brother broke up?”  


“No.” Hermione hesitated, the kiss still fresh in her memory. Ginny noticed.  


“What have I missed?” Harry asked dropping into the chair beside Ginny. His eyes fell on the cheese platter.  


“Viktor is going to crush them,” Ginny replied.  


“Why?” Harry asked. Hermione rolled her eyes as Ginny excitedly whispered.  


“To impress Hermione.”  


“If he wanted to impress Hermione he would just need to read _Hogwarts, A History_.” Hermione glared at him, he smiled back. Ginny punched his arm.  


“It’s his first match in a new league, a league he joined to be near her.”  


“He did not-” Ginny held up a hand to silence her protests.  


“Now she’s here watching, and the last time she watched he didn’t get the Snitch-”  


“How could you possibly remember-”  


“It’s also his big chance to beat the team her almost ex husband supports. He will crush them.” Ginny looked Hermione dead in the eye daring her to argue.  


A trumpet sounded and they all turned their attention to the match as the Quaffle flew into the air. It was fast and dirty. The Cannons had realised their only chance at victory was to score enough points that Krum’s presence wouldn’t mean anything.  


Unfortunately Wood was more than a match for them. One hour in Victor dived through the middle of the game and snatched the Snitch from the ground before their seeker even had a chance.  


A thunderous roar filled the stadium as his name was chanted over and over again. He did a lap of honour and stopped right by their box.  


Hermione grinned at him across the balcony as, beaming, he pointed from himself to the Snitch and back again. She nodded back ignoring Ginny’s elbow in her ribs. He looked like he was about to say something else when one of his team mates arrived and led him to the ground. Hermione finally turned to Ginny.  


“You know, he’d be an excellent rebound,” Ginny suggested. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Hey I know you’ve already kissed him.”   


Hermione gaped at her.  


“How did you possibly find out?” She thought back over all their previous conversations. Had she somehow let it slip? Viktor wouldn’t have said anything so how- Ginny’s mouth dropped open. Harry took the opportunity to steal the rest of the cheese platter. It seemed Harry at least was uninterested in her love life. Ginny however still looked amazed.  


“You kissed him?”   


“How could you possibly know about that?” Hermione demanded.  


“I was referring to the Yule ball are you saying there’s been one since then?” Hermione busied herself with a nearby program ignoring Ginny’s attempts to get all the details.   


Harry knowing his wife far too well, or perhaps it was all the cheese he’d just scoffed, escaped to the bathroom while Ginny and Hermione made their way down towards the change rooms to meet Viktor.   


“When was it? How was it? Did you start it or did he?”  


“Start what?”   


Hermione and Ginny turned to see Ron standing there, his Chuddley Cannons scarf hanging limply around his neck and a sour expression on his face.  


“Were you talking about me?” Neither answered and he glared at them waiting.  


“Bet you were surprised to see Viktor. He was amazing today.” Ginny said in a blatant attempt at changing the subject.  


“Oh right, Viktor.” Ron glared at Hermione. “You knew about this, didn’t you.”  


“Well yes he told me-”  


“Of course he did. Vicky tells you everything doesn’t he.” She could see Ron working himself up again. She knew she needed to remain calm and not-  


“Don’t call him Vicky!” she yelled.  


“What did I miss?” Harry asked. Hermione and Ginny turned to Harry in relief.  


“Oh so you’re here as well,” Ron muttered.  


“Yeah mate, Viktor gave us tickets. He probably would have got you one as well if we’d known you were coming. There was plenty of room in the box.”  


“Oh so you were all in the box were you? Well that’s just fine.” Harry and Ginny looked at each other.  


“I think we should leave them to talk,” Ginny said taking Harry’s arm and leading him away. They were silent as Harry and Ginny disappeared down the corridor. Hermione sighed and looked at Ron.  


He didn’t look so different from the last time she’d seen him. He still looked tired and worn out. At least there weren’t dark circles under his eyes this time. His very angry eyes. Sensing a fight she silently cast Muffliato.   


“You off to see Vicky now?” he asked.   


“Ron, cut it out. I’ve been going to see Viktor play for years and you’ve never had a problem with it before.”  


“You didn’t want to divorce me before,” he shot back.  


“This has nothing to do with Viktor.”  


She was really getting tired of repeating that. Was she repeating that, or did it just feel that way? Did no one believe she was capable of making a choice like this on her own? Did they think she needed to have a man in her life to replace her current one. She was an independent woman with a life and desires of her own.  


“Yes it does. Tell me did you wait until you had the papers first or did you start fucking him right after I left?”  


“Ronald Weasley!” she yelled.   


At that moment Viktor came around the corner and stopped. He looked from Ron to her and froze.  


“Oh I am sorry. I did not mean to disturb.”  


He tried to back away but Ron glared at him.  


“Oh of course here he comes to rescue you.”  


“Don’t you dare,” Hermione snapped.  


“Oh I dare, you’re still my wife. I haven’t signed the papers yet so he can keep his hands off you.”  


“You do not get to decide what I do with my body Ron. I’ve signed the papers and that’s all I need as far as I’m concerned!”  


“Well it’s not!”  


Viktor looked from one to the other and took another step back but Ron rounded on him.   


“Oi you, hands off my wife!”  


Viktor froze and looked at Hermione.   


“Ron, leave him alone, this is between us.”  


Ron ignored her instead marching right up to Viktor.  


“You hear me Vicky? Hands off my wife.”   


Viktor looked from Ron to Hermione.  


“She’s not your wife-”   


Ron’s fist connected with the side of Viktor’s face as a flash filled the corridor. Ron fell to the ground stunned as Hermione rushed to Viktor.  


“I am so sorry Viktor,” she said carefully examining his face. Swelling quickly started under his left eye.  


“It is okay Hermione. I should not have spoken. He was clearly angry. I should-”  


“I can’t believe he hit you. I can’t believe you hit him!” she yelled at Ron. Another flash and they both turned to see Rita Skeeter with her cameraman.  


Hermione raised her wand and they disapparated. Viktor swore in Bulgarian and Hermione muttered under her breath.  


“I’m sorry that’s going to be everywhere now,” she said.  


“That is okay. They won’t know the exact words. We can pretend I said something insulting about his favourite player.”  


“I don’t think anyone will believe that after she writes her article. Oh this is such a mess.” She looked down at the still unmoving Ron. “This is all your fault you idiotic man.”  


Viktor saw tears forming in the corners of her eyes.  


“It is okay Hermione, I promise.” He put an arm around her shoulder and led her away from her unconscious husband. Ex-husband he corrected himself. She had made that abundantly clear.   


Ginny and Harry came rushing down the corridor followed by the security wizard.  


“Ron’s stunned. I’m so sorry he hit Viktor and I just sort of-” Hermione’s voice trailed off at the expression on Ginny and Harry’s faces.  


“It is alright, I should not have said anything,” Viktor said.  


“Don’t you try and be noble,” Ginny said. “He shouldn’t have hit you. I cannot believe him. Are you alright Hermione?”   


Harry moved forwards and wrapped Hermione in a tight hug.  


“It’s alright Hermione. You two go and we’ll sort Ron out. We’ll meet you later.”  


Hermione let Viktor lead her away as Ginny walked around the corner and started yelling at her brother.  


Viktor led Hermione back to the locker room and grabbed his bags. He waved to several people and they disapparated. Hermione once again found herself in Viktor’s flat.  


She smiled as he moved around the tiny space putting his broom away and tossing his bag into the surprisingly neat bedroom. She looked around and saw several photos she hadn’t noticed before. One in particular caught her eye.  


“Viktor was this at Bill and Fleur’s wedding?”  


Viktor emerged from the bedroom and seeing the photo he nodded. A blush crept up his face as she looked at him.  


“Fleur gave it to me. She said we looked nice.”  


They did indeed look nice. Their photo selves spinning around the dance floor laughing and smiling completely oblivious to everything else around them. She looked to the other photos and saw him with the Bulgarian team, his parents, and several photos of him with another young man that looked vaguely familiar.  


“That is my friend Sergei. We grew up together and went to Durmstrang in the same year. I think I introduced you once, he was one of the others who came to Hogwarts.”  


A vague memory of Sergei surfaced.  


“Ah yes, he was the one who kept calling me pretty lady.”  


“Yes, he was teasing me. His English is not very good and it was all he knew how to say.”  


“He must have found classes very hard.”  


“Sergei was never very studious,” Viktor laughed.  


“He is now a teacher, much to everyone’s surprise. Flying though, so not a lot of writing.”  


“Oh really. Is he a good flier?”  


“Oh yes, we were always up to something on broomsticks. He was the one who always dragged me into trouble as a child. He still drags me into trouble actually.”  


Hermione smiled and sat down.  


“Why did you never mention him before. I remember the name so I know you told me about him but not much.”  


“Oh I just never know what to say about myself.”  


Viktor awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a sheepish smile.   


“Do you mind if I shower? I do not wish to smell.”  


“Not at all. Go get cleaned up, I’ll wait here.”   


She sat on the couch and withdrew a book from her bag. Viktor disappeared into the bathroom. Hermione waited until she was sure he was in the water before getting up and looking into the bedroom.  


The room was almost entirely taken up by the king size bed. More books were stacked in bookcases on another wall. A wardrobe stood in the corner shoes neatly stacked next to it. For a moment she considered what would happen if she lay waiting for him on the bed. What would he do?   


Hearing the water shut off she returned to the couch and opened her book to a random page. Viktor emerged wearing only a ridiculously small towel around his waist and another on his head. Hermione considered it was lucky he was drying his hair and didn’t see her expression. Her jaw had dropped and she’d started to salivate at the sight of all that naked flesh. The towel slipped a little as he walked into the bedroom and she caught sight of what had to be the world’s most perfect set of glutes.   


“I’ll be out in a minute,” he called closing the bedroom door. She didn’t trust her voice to respond just yet. His naked torso seemed to have been burnt into her retinas.

  


Viktor tossed the towel on his bed nd took a few deep breaths. He shouldn’t have done it. It was a dirty trick. But he had wanted to see her face. He had wanted to see her reaction to his body. Her intake of breath when he’d dropped the towel just that bit had been worth it. He would apologise though. It was rude to expose yourself in such a manner, even if they had seen you in a similar state before. But that had been when he was seventeen. He looked different now.  


When he emerged two minutes later fully dressed she had managed to collect herself.   


“Sorry, I should have covered myself better.” Hermione shook her head.  


“Oh don’t worry about it,” she said.  


“Do you need to change or are we okay to go to the party?” Viktor asked. “But only if you want to. You are not required to attend.”  


“No, I think I’m ready to face the world again.”   


She held out her hand and a few moments later they were being greeted by Ginny and Harry with drinks in their hands. Ron was almost completely forgotten as thoughts of Viktor’s body consumed the parts of her brain not focused on the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Viktor helps Hermione move and has dinner with her parents. Parents who have read the articles by Rita Skeeter.


	5. Moving and dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione moves into her new house, with a little help from Viktor and no help from Ron. Then the two of them are forced to answer some questions at a family dinner.

The articles that emerged, along with the hate mail that followed, led Hermione to get herself a new place. It was one thing to stay at her parents, it was quite another to allow them to receive dozens of owls every hour. She hid as many of the letters and the papers from her parents as possible. But it turned out to be an impossible task. She came down one morning to see her mother looking at the Daily Prophet and casually tossing hate mail into the fireplace. She found a new place that afternoon.

It was a modest apartment situated above a bookshop and within walking distance of the hospital. Her parents were amused at her proximity to a bookshop as were Harry and Ginny when they came with her to see it. Harry placed a bet that she’d have bought half the store before her first month was out. Ginny wisely did not take it, at least not in front of Hermione. 

They were away that weekend to go see Teddy and so Hermione was left to move with only the assistance of her father, or so she had expected until an owl had come from Viktor.

 

That Saturday, just after lunch, Viktor turned up to help her move. She had sent an owl to Ron telling him she would be coming to the house, but he did not reply.   
As Viktor gave her a hug in greeting she felt something in her relax a little. No matter what, Viktor, it seemed, was there to support her. Crookshanks made an appearance weaving around Viktor’s legs and claiming a scratch behind the ear. Viktor was one of the few people that Crookshanks seemed to actively like. 

Mrs Granger greeted Viktor warmly and insisted he join them for dinner the following Saturday. “It would be a delight to get to know more of Hermione’s friends.” Viktor was surprised but after a quick glance at Hermione promised he would be there.

Mr Granger shook Viktor’s hand and jokingly informed him he might not fit in the car. Viktor laughed and said he was sure he would manage.

“I am a seeker,” he said grinning.

Hermione had exchanged a look with her parents and the three of them had smiled at him. Viktor’s smile faltered a little. At her mother’s insistence they all had a cup of tea before heading outside to the car. 

Viktor’s face when he saw the car made Hermione smile. It was like something in him recognised what he stood before.

“The Mercedes Benz SLK,” Mr Granger said. 

He gave the car a fond smile. The car was a relatively recent acquisition and he loved it. Viktor approached the car looking around it ever so carefully. The whole car gleamed and Hermione smiled thinking about how happy her father had been the day he drove it home. 

“I don’t understand what that means but it looks very nice,” Viktor said, his eyes still glued to the car. Mr Granger looked at Hermione who smiled.

“He’s only been in a car once,” she explained. Mr Granger sighed. He had been disappointed by Ron’s lack of car knowledge too. 

It was Hermione who ended up climbing into the back seat as her father started a long explanation of the Mercedes brand. Much of it was probably lost in the wind as the top was down.

Viktor for his part seemed both fascinated and very dazed. It was probably the car. Hermione watched him following her father’s every move, especially when the car accelerated on the highway. She considered reminding her father how many speeding tickets he had. But Viktor’s smile as they exceeded the speed limit made her smile, so she let it be. 

“You know how I said that some cars can go faster than brooms,” she yelled. “This car is one.”

Viktor turned in his seat and she saw a gleam in his eyes. 

“Show me,” he said. 

Hermione and her father laughed. The car slowed as they turned off the highway. 

“Maybe another time,” Hermione said. 

“You should see the racing cars, they put this beauty to shame,” Mr Granger said.

“You should see Quidditch, it is the greatest sport in the world,” Viktor said.

Hermione smiled as she listened to the two of them talking above the wind. That and the surprisingly warm weather lulled her into a feeling of peace for the drive. The feel of the engine and the blur of the scenery pulled her into a trance. It was the one thing she had always missed at Hogwarts, driving with her father. Not that she’d ever told Harry and Ron. They wouldn’t understand how she could miss something so mundane. 

The car eased into a park out the front of what had been her house. Hermione felt weak as she looked at it. She hadn’t expected to come back. Not really. Even as she’d planned to move she hadn’t really thought of returning. 

She got out of the car and stood looking at the house unable to move as the realisation of exactly what she was about to do came crashing into her.

Mr Granger put an arm around her shoulder and together they approached the house. Once she was inside it was alright. The place looked colder, emptier somehow. She could tell Ron hadn’t been there, not for a while.

She took a deep breath and turned to look around the room.

“Alright, best get to work then. I’ll tag things that I’m taking. Viktor if you could help me shrink them and place them in the box in the back of the car. I’ll enlarge it by magic and we can drop everything in.” They both nodded and she turned flicking her wand around the room as her father went to retrieve the box.

She heard Viktor’s muttered spells as he shrunk the couch and several very sad looking pot plants. She made a mental note to consult Neville about their revival. 

Mr Granger returned and Hermione enchanted the box while he gathered up the various shrunk items. The three of them moved through the lower half of the house with relative ease. But as they reached the stairs Hermione hesitated. 

“I don’t know if I can go up there,” she whispered. 

The kitchen had been hard but the bedroom had far too many memories attached, both good and bad. Even though she didn’t need to enter it, she would have to pass it.   
Viktor looked from her ashen face to the bedroom door. 

“Can you not walk past the door?” he asked. She slowly shook her head.

After a moment’s hesitation he swept her up in his arms. For a moment she was stunned as he yelled something in Bulgarian and ran her up the stairs right past the bedroom. She laughed. Viktor carried her to the library at the end of the hall repeating what she realised was a form of Bulgarian battle cry. It was such a ridiculous thing to do it broke her of her anxiety. 

“Viktor put me down,” she said laughing. 

“Make me,” Viktor said. 

He held her closer and ran from the library to the spare room and out again. She found herself laughing at the strangeness of his action. She could hear her father at the other end of the hall laughing too. Viktor begun singing loudly and very off key in Bulgarian while spinning her around the hallway. She knew they probably looked ridiculous.

Then suddenly the laughter and singing stopped. Viktor quickly set her back on her feet his face suddenly blank. She turned and saw Ron standing in the middle of the hall having just emerged from the bedroom.

“Hello Ron,” she said. He grunted back.

“Viktor, I think we missed some things in the kitchen,” Mr Granger said. 

Viktor nodded and walked towards the stairs. There was a brief moment of tension as he approached Ron, then Ron stepped aside to let him pass. Mr Granger looked at Ron who nodded back.

“Mr Granger,” he said by way of greeting.

“Ron,” Mr Granger replied. He turned to Hermione. “We will be downstairs to help when you’re ready to continue.”

He gave Ron one last look and went to join Viktor. 

Hermione looked at Ron. He looked worse. She cast muffliato. 

“I see you and Viktor are still close,” Ron said.

“He was helping me.”

“Oh clearly,” Ron said. He crossed his arms and glared at her.

“If you must know I was feeling upset at the thought of climbing the stairs and so he carried me up,” Hermione snapped back.

“I see he favours jeans,” Ron said.

“What does his clothing have to do with anything?”

“He’s manipulating you. He knows you’re Muggleborn, he’s trying to play into your feelings by wearing Muggle clothes.”

“Him and just about every other wizard Ron. And as if you’ve never worn jeans. You forget who used to buy your clothes,” she said.

“I buy my own clothes!” he yelled. Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“Oh really, what size jeans do you wear?” she asked. Ron glowered at her.

“Ones that fit,” he said. “Unlike Vicky, I don’t try to show off.”

“Viktor is not showing off. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He’s here helping me move. That’s all.”

Hermione glared at Ron.

“Oh so he’s never taken his clothes off just by coincidence. I bet he’ll say he’s getting a little warm soon and then coincidentally strip off his shirt just for you. I knew you liked athletic men but really Hermione, he hasn’t got two brain cells to rub together.”

Hermione recoiled.

“How can you say that? He speaks three languages and graduated in the top five of all his classes. He knew enough English to attend classes at Hogwarts at seventeen. How many languages do you speak?”

“Oh wow he speaks a few words, spells are the same all over Europe,” Ron said dismissively. 

“What has gotten into you Ron?” 

Hermione felt very tired. She sighed heavily and looked at Ron. He glared back angrily. He looked so different from the man she married. She missed him. She missed his jokes and bravado. She missed the kind, loyal man she had fallen in love with. Not the tired workaholic he had been the last few years, and certainly not the man that stood before her now.

“Why can’t you just believe me?” she said quietly. “I knew you’d find this difficult but I expected you would get over it by now. I certainly didn’t expect you to start getting all jealous. Our marriage has been over for a long time, we both know that. But here you are acting like we were on our honeymoon.”  
Ron looked away.

“I’m not in a romantic relationship with Viktor, we’re just friends. Yes we are becoming better friends lately, but that’s because he’s around more for me to talk with.”

“That’s not what is being said in the paper and magazines,” Ron mumbled.

“Oh yes, Witch Weekly is an excellent source of accurate information about the love lives of people. Especially articles by Rita Skeeter. You remember what she said about Hagrid?”

Ron looked away and Hermione felt bad again. She hadn’t wanted this. She just wanted them all to be happy.

“When you’re ready to be friends again let me know,” she said walking to the spare room.

“We’re still married,” he said.

“Your refusal to sign the papers doesn’t mean we’re married. It just means you’re stubborn.”

Ron wasn’t looking at her anymore.

“Ron, I know you were unhappy being married to me. You still are. This is better for both of us. You know it is,” she said.

“Do I? Because I thought you and I were going to stay married for the rest of our lives. That’s what wizards do Hermione, we marry for life. I thought you knew that.” 

She realised how new all this must be to him. She hadn’t considered how strange the idea of divorce must be to him. No one in his family was divorced, none of their friends. Ron had never been exposed to divorce except as an abstract. 

“Ron, marriages end all the time. Even in the wizarding world,” she said. “It doesn’t mean the couples hate each other or that they failed. These things just happen. Not everyone is like your parents. We are not a good couple and you need to accept that.”

“And if I don’t?” he asked.

“Then I will be filing very different paperwork,” she said.

Ron looked rather defeated. Hermione turned around and entered the spare room marking things to take. 

She waited as she heard Ron go downstairs. Remembering Viktor and her father were still down there, she followed just in time to see Ron disapparate. 

She looked around and Viktor held up a set of keys.

“Your father had to run, he said you weren’t allowed to race it but he trusts you to return it tonight,” he said. 

Hermione smiled and took the keys.

“Shall we get started upstairs and go to my new place?” she asked.

Viktor nodded and together they headed back upstairs. The bedroom door no longer an obstacle.

An hour later Viktor put the box in the boot of the car and Hermione got in the drivers seat. Viktor got in the car and after a prompt put on his seatbelt. 

“So you know how to drive?” Viktor asked casually. Hermione grinned and reversed out at speed.

She was delighted to hear Viktor’s curse as she suddenly accelerated forwards. 

“I can a little,” she said grinning. 

Viktor for the first time looked a little afraid as she weaved through the London traffic. 

“Do you drive often?”

“Every chance I get. I considered getting my own car but there wasn’t much point since I can apparate. It seemed a waste, but now I’m considering the potential benefits.”

Viktor nodded and she saw him smiling as she got to the highway and accelerated. 

“This feels a little like flying,” Viktor said.

“Ron always thought I was scared of going too fast until I took him for a drive.” Hermione laughed at the memory of Ron’s face. 

“Why would he think you were scared of going fast?” Viktor asked.

“I don’t like flying,” she said.

“Really? You never seem to have an issue when I take you.”

Hermione glanced at Viktor giving him a secret smile.

“You’re an exception,” she said. 

Viktor’s smile at her words was something special. Hermione felt on top of the world as she looked back at the road. 

“I’m an exception,” he said softly. She laughed accelerating again. 

 

“So how did you get this place?” Viktor asked getting out and retrieving the box.

“The word Doctor helped,” Hermione admitted. 

Viktor laughed and followed Hermione carrying the box. They headed up a flight of narrow wooden stairs to her door. She fumbled with the keys and tapped the door with her wand. The door swung open and he followed her inside.

The apartment was much larger than his but nowhere near as large as the house had been. Hermione opened several doors as Viktor put the box down. 

“Shall we get started?” she asked. Viktor nodded and they both held their wands high.

“Don’t tell my parents we did this,” she said with a smile. 

Viktor nodded and they waved their wands together. Everything flew out of the box and Hermione sent each item shooting to its place with tiny flicks of her wand. Viktor moved around returning them to their normal size.

It took them only twenty minutes to move her in. Hermione grinned at Viktor and they dropped onto the sofa together. Hermione’s head fell onto Viktor’s shoulder. 

“Thank you Viktor,” she said.

“Anytime,” he replied.

She closed her eyes and sighed as he put an arm around her. Crookshanks appeared and leapt into Viktor’s lap. They both blinked at the cat surprised.

“Did you bring him?” Viktor asked. 

Hermione shook her head. 

“Clever cat,” Viktor said. 

He scratched Crookshanks’ ears as the three of them stayed on the couch together. Viktor tried not to enjoy the moment too much. Hermione left her head on his shoulder sighing deeply and closing her eyes. He stayed as still as he could while still patting Crookshanks’. It was the kind of moment he dreamed of sometimes. The three of them. It was so easy to close his eyes and pretend they were moving in together, that he-

“I should probably head home, I need to do some shopping,” Viktor said. 

Hermione nodded sitting upright.

“I should probably go shopping as well,” she said. 

Viktor carefully removed Crookshanks from his lap and helped her stand. 

As Hermione waved Viktor off she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Something in her wanted to keep Viktor with her. But she couldn’t. That wasn’t their relationship, even if she had pretended it was, for a moment. 

A part of her felt bad for betraying Ron but that part of her was easily silenced with the memory of Ron punching Viktor in the face.

 

“Mum, we don’t need a second roast,” Hermione said. 

“I don’t want anyone to go hungry,” Mrs Granger replied oiling the second pork roast. 

“There’s only four of us,” Hermione insisted.

“Well you never know who else might turn up.”

Hermione turned very slowly to look at her mother.

“Who else is coming?”

“Oh just a few friends and family. Don’t look at me like that you haven’t seen your grandparents for months and Sandra is practically family.”

Hermione sighed heavily. Her grandparents would be bad enough but Sandra, and undoubtedly Sandra’s children. Though they were quite pleasant, for teenagers.

“Here, would you set the table?” Mrs Granger handed Hermione a stack of plates. She quickly counted them.

“Who else did you invite?”

“Our neighbours, the Petersons.”

Sighing heavily Hermione got out her wand and waved it to extend the kitchen table to seat everyone. A tablecloth, the plates, cutlery and napkins found their places on the table.  
Hermione ignored her mother’s tutting and turned to see her father a bucket and sponge in hand.

“Brian, I need you to go to the store and grab me a few last things,” Mrs Granger said. 

Mr Granger smiled at Hermione.

“Sweetheart, would you like to come help me?” he asked.

Hermione nodded. He put the bucket down and they grabbed their coats. 

“Here’s your list, Hermione dear, make sure he gets the right ice cream,” Mrs Granger said handing over a list. Hermione glanced at it and saw no less than a dozen items. 

“Yes Mum,” Hermione promised. Mr Granger kissed Mrs Granger on the cheek and the two of them escaped into the rain.

Hermione was careful not to step in any mud as she raced to the car. Her father was right behind her as the rain started to soak into their hair and clothes.

Hermione smiled as they reversed out of the driveway.

“Shall we go to the big store?” Mr Granger asked with a smile.

“The one that is ten minutes further away?” Hermione asked. He nodded. 

“She did want us to make sure we got the right brand, the smaller one might not have it,” she said with mock sincerity. They smiled and he turned left heading for the larger store.

For a time they just listened to the radio. Hermione had always enjoyed being in the car with her father. He had been the one who drove her to school most days. It had given them a lot of time together.

“Mum seems very invested in dinner tonight,” she said finally.

“She always fusses a bit over dinners,” Mr Granger replied.

“She pretended it was just a nice family dinner,” Hermione muttered.

“It is though.” 

Hermione looked at her father disbelieving. He glanced at her and sighed.

“Everyone wants to meet your new man.”

“Viktor is just my friend,” Hermione insisted.

“I believe you, but your ex husband did punch the man in the face and he has been around an awful lot. You do look very cosy in the pictures, and he did invite you to see him in Bulgaria.”

“Seven years ago, and those photos are somewhat doctored,” she said.

“You felt the need to hide them.” Mr Granger replied.

Hermione felt his words hit her like a truck.

“I’m sorry I tried to hide things from you, again,” she whispered. 

“You know, we weren’t upset by what you did.” Mr Granger said. “It was that you didn’t talk to us about it first.”

Hermione looked at her father and saw, perhaps for the first time, how old and tired he looked. 

“I’m sorry, I thought it was best. You would have talked me out of it and I knew it was the only way to keep you safe,” she said.

“We may only be Muggle dentists but we do understand. We might not have fought in some magical war, but that doesn’t mean we don’t understand the kind of thinking that   
surrounds it. In case you haven’t noticed I am a very pasty white and your mother, to be blunt, is a lovely brown. There’s a reason I haven’t spoken to my parents in a very long time.”

They pulled into the supermarket parking lot. The engine died and silence filled the car. Hermione didn’t know what to say.

“We fought some very different battles. But the motivation was the same. When you were just a baby we had to move twice. Not to mention all that happened with your Uncle. We watched a lot of people we loved die, and could do nothing.”

“I remember,” she whispered. Tears gathered in her eyes and Mr Granger reached over to hold her hand.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. We really do understand why you did what you did. We just think that if you’d talked with us we could have worked out something, or at least gotten some better protection for everyone. We could still have been safe and protected with the memory of you.”

He rubbed his face and sighed. 

“I would wake at nights sure there was something missing, and no matter how I searched I couldn’t find it. It worried me. And your mother, she kept seeing people who looked like you and feeling something. She called out to no less than thirty people for a reason she couldn’t explain. She was most agitated.”  
Hermione laughed and a few tears escaped. He handed her a handkerchief and she wiped them away.

“I’m sorry I keep hiding things from you. I promise I’ll get better.”

“We would appreciate it. Just because you can do magic doesn’t mean we are helpless. Voldemort didn’t know about tazers did he?”

The image of her mother tazing Voldemort made Hermione smile and she looked at her father.

“I should take you to a Quidditch match sometime,” she said.

He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

“I’d love to see more of your world. But first we need to bring your mother,” he squinted at the list, “jam.” 

Hermione nodded and the two of them got out into the freezing rain once more. 

 

Hermione greeted Viktor at the door with a glass of wine and a warning.

“My mother has invited a few extras,” she said.

Viktor entered to see everyone looking at him. He suddenly felt rather nervous. Mrs Granger came forward to kiss Viktor on the cheek.

“Viktor allow me to introduce our neighbours Samuel and Catherine Peterson.” 

Viktor shook their hands. The Petersons were a couple in their fifties with matching jumpers. They looked very English. 

“My parents, Walter and Mary Marsh.” Viktor nodded and shook their hands as well. Mr and Mrs Marsh looked, scholarly both with glasses and both in some kind of tweed. He was   
starting to wonder if dressing to match was a requirement for English couples.

“Our good friend Sandra, and her three boys Mark, Philip and Daniel.” Viktor shook Sandra’s hand and waved to the teenage boys who were all glued to the television. The three of them turned as one, waved, and returned to the game. All three were very blonde. Sandra by comparison had very thick black hair and the air of someone who missed nothing.

Mr Granger managed to drag himself from the television to come greet Viktor with a firm handshake, but as the boys cried out he hurried back to watch.

“The game is set to finish in time for dinner otherwise they wouldn’t be allowed to watch it,” Sandra said with a smile.   
Viktor nodded.

“I understand completely, my family is rather sports obsessed.”

Hermione coughed to hide her laugh. 

“Oh, what team do they support?” Mr Marsh asked.

“The Bulgarian team of course,” Viktor replied with a smile. The doorbell rang and Mrs Granger went to answer.

“Henry darling!” she cried. 

Henry was a man in his fifties with a pair of small circular spectacles and absolutely no hair. He looked rather thin and a little sick to Viktor. Though he realised that might be because he was absolutely drenched. Hermione went over and gave him a gentle hug.

“I thought you were still in Newcastle,” she said.

“I got back yesterday,” Henry replied.

He gave Hermione a second hug and a fond smile as he was dragged towards the staircase by Mrs Granger. 

“Henry you’re absolutely soaked. Come upstairs I’ll put your clothes in the dryer and you can borrow some of Brain’s.”

“Oh thank you Jane. Got a bit caught out by a taxi. Didn’t realise he’d let me out at the wrong place until it was too late.” Mrs Granger ushered a dripping Henry upstairs insisting he would “catch his death in those clothes.”

Viktor looked at Hermione who had drifted her hand to her wand. 

“So, Viktor what do you do for a living?” Mrs Marsh asked.

Viktor turned back to the Marshes and smiled.

“I’m an assistant coach for junior athletics,” he said.

“Oh really, what age group?” Mr Marsh asked.

“Oh all juniors. I often joke I specialise in catching,” Viktor said. 

Hermione smiled and caught his eye. He grinned. 

“Oh really?” Mrs Marsh asked.

“I do especially enjoy working with children. They always find ways to surprise me,” he added.

Mrs Marsh, it turned out, had once been a primary school teacher and insisted on hearing all about his ‘students’. 

Mrs Granger returned followed by Henry. Mr Granger’s clothes made him look even frailer but he did seem more cheerful now that he was dry. 

Viktor watched as Hermione disappeared into the kitchen. She quickly returned with what he was sure was a potion laced cup of tea for Henry. There was an extra level of gentleness in everything she and Mrs Granger did towards the man. He couldn’t quite tell why. 

He watched carefully as Henry accepted the tea. He took a sip and Viktor watched the colour return to his face. 

“Hermione, what did you put in my tea?” he asked smiling.

“Oh just a special blend I picked up from a friend of mine,” she replied.

“This friend got a name?”

“Neville.” 

Henry laughed and looked at Viktor.

“Doctor Henry Williams, pleasure to meet you.”

Viktor shook his hand. 

“Viktor Krum.”

There was a cheer from the lounge room as Mr Granger and the three boys jumped up.

“I’m going to guess they won,” Henry said to Hermione.

“Most likely. Dinner’s ready and on the table,” Hermione said. Mrs Granger smiled and looked into the dining room. Viktor heard her muttering something appreciative about magic as they all took their seats. There was two roasts and a surprising abundance of salads. 

Viktor sat between Hermione and Henry. Mr Granger begun to carve a roast as Mrs Granger’s eyes landed on Viktor.

“So, Viktor.” He froze, a pair of salad tongs in his hands.

“Yes Mrs Granger?” he asked. Hermione gave him a reassuring pat on the leg under the table. 

“Do tell me, why did Ron hit you?” 

Silence hit the table as everyone looked from Mrs Granger to Viktor.

“Uh.” Viktor looked at Hermione.

“Ron was having an argument with me and Viktor just happened to walk in at the wrong time,” Hermione said quickly.

Mrs Granger smiled politely not looking away from Viktor.

“Really?” she asked. “So he just saw you walk in and decided to hit you? That doesn’t sound quite right. Ron always had a bit of a temper but he never had any violent tendencies.”

Hermione poured herself a glass of wine as Viktor tried to think of how to answer. This was some kind of test, but he wasn’t sure who was being tested.

“He was being a bit confrontational and when I responded to his -- accusations -- he punched me. I probably should have kept my mouth shut,” he said.

Mrs Granger looked to Hermione and Viktor breathed a little easier, until the next words out of Mrs Granger’s mouth.

“Were you two having an affair?”

Hermione spat out her wine and looked horrified at her mother.

“I am just checking, really darling don’t be so dramatic,” Mrs Granger passed a handful of napkins to Hermione.

Hermione glared at her mother.

“And I have yet to hear your response,” Mrs Granger added. 

Viktor quickly held up his hands.

“I do not know what you have heard, but there was no affair. There is no affair. We are just friends.” Hermione gave him a grateful look as she dabbed at the tablecloth. 

“The papers seem to think otherwise,” Mr Granger said.

Viktor and Hermione turned to him. Viktor had rather hoped he would be on their side. Hermione huffed. 

“Those articles are written by Rita Skeeter. The woman is a vile, loathesome-”

“Has a long history of inaccurate stories,” Viktor finished. 

Mr and Mrs Granger exchanged a look.

“Which papers?” Sandra asked. There was an awkward moment as Hermione, her parents, and Viktor all looked at each other. None of them answered. Finally Henry laughed.

“Alex would have loved this,” he said. 

Everyone except Viktor laughed. 

“Alex was Hermione’s Uncle. He rather enjoyed drama,” Henry explained to Viktor who nodded.

“Now that’s an understatement,” Sandra said. “Alex thrived on drama.” 

“Much to my horror,” added Mrs Marsh. 

There was laughter and the conversation turned to Alex and all the drama he had caused. Viktor breathed a sigh of relief. He waved his wand under the table cleaning the wine from it and Hermione. 

“Sorry about that,” Hermione whispered.

“Oh it’s alright. If you ever came to dinner with my family, well it would certainly be more, intensive scrutiny.”

“From what you’ve told me of your mother it certainly would be,” Hermione said. 

Then exchanged a smile and she turned to Henry who it seemed was looking rather longingly at a large tureen of gravy. Hermione waved her wand in her lap and a smaller gravy boat shot into her hand. No one else noticed as she poured some gravy into it. Henry accepted the smaller gravy boat from her with a smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d run out?” Hermione whispered. Viktor turned confused then realised she was talking to Henry. 

“I’ve just been sick that’s all. I didn’t run out,” he whispered. 

“Sick with what?” Hermione asked. She was now leaning around Viktor.

“Pneumonia, but it wasn’t serious.”

“Henry, pneumonia is serious. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry, you’re going through a lot right now and I was fine. Now don’t look at me like that. I took all my medications and my tea, twice a day as instructed.” 

Viktor could tell Hermione was fixing Henry with a glare, he realised, was nearly identical to her mothers. 

“Henry, you need to be careful,” Hermione said.

“I know, I know. And I am I promise. Three square meals a day and eight hours of sleep. Plus eight cups of tea. And Barkley makes sure I go for my walks. I was just unlucky   
recently that’s all. Otherwise I would have been here the moment I heard what was happening with you and Ron. I am sorry I wasn’t.”

Hermione sighed.

“Promise me, next time you get sick you’ll call me,” she said.

“I promise,” Henry gently patted her hand.

“No matter what?” Hermione pressed.

“I promise. You can give me one of your lovely potions and I’m sure I’ll be right as rain.” 

Henry looked up at Viktor.

“Sorry we’ve been ignoring you. Terribly rude of us,” Henry gave Viktor a bright smile.

“That’s quite alright,” Viktor said smiling back. “I know Hermione well enough to know it isn’t at all personal. She’s given me the same talking to a few times.”

Henry laughed and Hermione glared at him.

“What was your crime?” Henry asked.

“Breaking my nose for the tenth time.” Viktor said.

“Twelfth,” Hermione corrected. “One of these days it’s not going to set right.”

“My face is not my best feature,” Viktor shrugged.

“Oh, and what is your best feature then?” Hermione asked.

“My arms, clearly.”

Viktor flexed and Hermione rolled her eyes as Henry laughed.

“You remind me a lot of Alex. He used to say the same thing, except he claimed it was his shins that were his best feature. I disagreed,” Henry reached for his wine.

“Oh, and what was his best feature?” Viktor asked.

Henry winked.

“One does not say in polite company.”

Viktor laughed and so did Henry as Hermione pretended to be scandalized. 

“You were a married woman,” Henry said pointing at Hermione who was now blushing.

“One does not talk about such things.” Hermione muttered, suddenly very interested in her salad as her face got redder and redder.

Viktor and Henry laughed harder as Hermione glared at them.

“For your information Viktor, your best feature is not your arms, that towel slip proved it.”

Viktor’s jaw dropped as Henry laughed louder reaching for his glass of wine. Hermione smiled smugly at Viktor and took a sip of her own wine. He smiled back feeling something   
shift a little between them. 

“Do you see why he’s my favourite Uncle?” Hermione asked.

“How-” the pieces connected and he looked at Henry with a smile. “You and Alex were married?”

“I wish. I would have married him in an instant. Well I would have said yes. A wedding is not something one rushes the planning of.”

Hermione muttered an agreement. 

“I don’t remember you being at-”

“I was very sick at the time. I was so sorry I couldn’t come. But Hermione did see me, brought me a piece of cake and let me touch her gown. I couldn’t see much at the time,”   
Henry explained.

Viktor nodded. The conversation shifted and dessert, bread and butter pudding with ice cream, was served. Viktor looked around the table and realised something he hadn’t   
noticed before. The table had an extra seat beside Henry. A place had been set at the table for Alex. He smiled.

 

Viktor found Hermione in the kitchen sneakily doing the dishes by magic. He walked over to lean against the counter beside her.

“I always wondered why you never went into the ministry. Healing wasn’t quite an odd choice but it was certainly not what everyone expected.”

Hermione looked up at him and shrugged.

“I saw a lot of people die,” she said.

“But that wasn’t what did it. I remember the books you used to read in the library. When Harry and Ron weren’t there.”

Hermione sighed.

“I watched my uncle slowly waste away, his body unable to defend itself. I could make objects fly through the air, I could turn a beetle into a button, but I couldn’t help him. I could brew Polyjuice Potion at the age of twelve but I couldn’t brew anything to help his body fight back. I asked Madam Pomfrey if there was a magical cure. There wasn’t. He died in my third year. Which just happened to be the year I was fighting with Ron and Harry.”

Viktor opened and closed his mouth. Unsure what to say he picked up a tea towel and begun twisting it in his hands, 

“Did you tell them?” he asked.

“No, I spent a lot of time with Hagrid. I made him promise not to tell them. Ron worked it out eventually and apologised for not being there when I needed him. So did Harry. But, at the time I had Hagrid. He made me tea and let me cry. He helped me get through it. Crookshanks too.”

Viktor nodded.

“When did you find the treatment for Henry?”

“I didn’t, Neville did. It’s not really a treatment per se, his drugs do a lot of the work, the tea just helps with the fatigue, and the nausea, and a few other things.”

She put her wand away as the last dish found its place in the cupboard. Viktor put down the tea towel.

“I like your Uncle. He’s a lovely man. So is the rest of your family,” he said.

“They’re a bit boring really,” Hermione said. She turned to look up at him.

“No, they’re nice people. They’re good honest people who love you and support you. I like them.”

“I think they like you too.”

“I’m glad.”

Hermione looked up into his eyes and he took a tiny step closer his hand moving to her hip. She slowly put down her wand tilting her head back a little. He dared not breathe as he lowered his head towards hers. Her hands wound their way around his hips.

“Hermione! Would you go see if Henry’s clothes are dry?”

Mrs Granger’s voice carried to them from the lounge. Hermione smiled at Viktor.

“Okay Mum!” she yelled back her eyes still locked on Viktor’s. 

“Now Hermione!”

They both laughed and Viktor took a step back as Hermione rolling her eyes turned away.

She paused at the doorway looking back at him with the same secret smile as in the car.

Viktor sucked in a breath. Something in him felt a possibility for the first time. Maybe, just maybe, she might like him back. Maybe one day she would love him the way he loved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time we get to meet Sergei, best friend of Viktor Krum, and find out what happens when Hermione speaks a little Bulgarian.


	6. Sergei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergei comes to visit and Viktor finally gets the courage to ask Hermione on a date.

“Sergei!” Viktor called to his friend and waved. Sergei saw him and waved back smiling. They embraced and Viktor let go of the breath he had been holding. Sergei it seemed was not unhappy about his leaving.

“Were you worried my friend?” Sergei asked. Hearing Bulgarian again made Viktor relax. He had missed his language. 

“I may have been a little concerned,” he admitted.

“Ha! You forget I know why you left. I am forgiving when it comes to women my friend.”

“It was not for her,” Viktor insisted.

“Oh so I can go charm her yes?”

Viktor shoved his friend and they laughed together. 

“Come, let us go flying,” Viktor said.

“Let us fly by your girlfriend. I saw the photos in the papers. How could you let her see you get hit? Was it a sympathy tactic?” 

Viktor was now remembering why Sergei was his best friend and the most annoying person he had ever met. It likely came from knowing him so well.

Sergei kept up his comments as they made their way to the nearby hotel. Sergei, thankfully, was briefly distracted by the receptionist. Viktor watched his friend flirt with the admittedly handsome man behind the desk for several minutes. When he saw Sergei magic a bouquet of flowers, to the delight of the receptionist, he decided it was time to leave.   
He grabbed Sergei by the back of his shirt and dragged him towards the elevator. Sergei blew a kiss as the doors closed.

“You are insane,” Viktor muttered. Sergei shrugged.

“One of us needs to have a little fun.”

“I have plenty of fun,” Viktor muttered. Sergei rolled his eyes. They dropped off Sergei’s bags and made their way to the roof. 

The air was cold and a light rain was slowly darkening the concrete beneath their feet. Viktor removed their brooms from the magical carry bags. With a smile Sergei cast a Disillusionment charm on them both and shot into the air. Viktor followed trying not to touch his head. He had never got entirely comfortable with the feeling.

As he shot into the air Viktor relaxed. Here he was king, nothing and no one could touch him here. He was unstoppable. He spun into the air and turned towards the forests far in the distance. 

Sergei flew up beside him and immediately challenged Viktor to a race. Viktor laughed and lowered himself on the broom. He shot forwards hearing Sergei’s annoyed yell from far behind him. The city spread out before them became a blur as he raced forwards.

 

Three hours later it was well and truly dark as they flew over a forest. Sergei had admitted defeat two hours earlier. Viktor slowed to an easy glide as he stood on his broom. Sergei copied him and the two of them laughed and joked trying to keep their balance.

“Tell me friend, what is going on between you two? Why did her husband hit you?”

“He was a little touchy because they’re getting divorced. Well she is of the mind they are divorced. She moved out recently and everything. All he needs to do is sign the papers and it’s all official.”

“Ah and so you made a move?” Sergei asked.

“No. We are friends. She is not interested in me like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am quite sure. She has never expressed an interest in me romantically.” Viktor tried not to think of the kiss, or that moment in her parent’s kitchen.

“She did when we were at the school,” Sergei pointed out.

“She was fourteen and we agreed to be friends after. She was in love with her husband,” Viktor said.

Sergei shrugged and dropped back onto his broom. Viktor stayed standing. 

“She still liked you. Maybe she will like you like that again,” Sergei said.

“She sees me as a friend and only a friend Sergei. I am happy with that. I happen to like being her friend.”

“You want more though,” Sergei said.

“She is a wonderful woman. And I will admit I have feelings for her,” Viktor said.

“You mean she is the love of your life. Admit it Viktor, you love her.”

“Of course I love her, we are very good friends.”

Sergei scoffed. Viktor dropped back onto his broom.

“I’m your friend but you don’t want to have sex with me,” Sergei said.

“That is because you are ugly,” Viktor replied.

Sergei made a noise of protest.

“If you never try you’ll never win her heart. Trust me friend. Take a risk, ask her on a date, not out to dinner or to a game. Ask her on a date. Like with the ball. In fact just like with the ball. You need to man up and express your feelings, before someone else does. Otherwise you lose her again. Most likely to me.”

Laughing Viktor playfully shoved Sergei then watched in horror as his friend fell. In an instant he was shooting towards Sergei’s falling body. He felt like everything was in slow motion as he watched Sergei hit a tree and fall further disappearing among the branches. He shot after him ignoring the branches whipping at his face and arms. He reached out his hand and caught Sergei’s leg pulling up his broom bringing them to a halt barely a metre from the forest floor.

“Sergei!” he yelled pulling his friend up and examining his face.

Sergei looked back with unfocused eyes and blood pouring from his face. Viktor swore. He was not good at medical magic and it seemed like Sergei had done something serious. He had certainly broken something, or many somethings if the odd angle of his arms was any indicator. There was only one place to go.

 

Viktor and Sergei apparated into St Mungo’s emergency department. Sergei was covered in blood and very dazed. Viktor had mended his nose and one of his arms but the rest was a bit more complicated.

The nurse looked at him and Sergei.

“Broomstick accident,” Viktor said. 

“Right this way,” she said. 

Viktor followed her to a bed where he sat Sergei down and the curtains were drawn. He tried not to panic as he looked around. Sergei had said and done nothing the whole time. His eyes were completely unfocused and he appeared not to be aware of his surroundings. The nurse reappeared and administered a potion to Sergei.

“What happened?”

“He fell off his broom at least 100 feet right into a tree, then he kept falling. I caught him right before he hit the ground.”

The nurse nodded and tapped Sergei with her wand. She muttered something as she looked at his eyes.

“A healer will be along shortly,” she said and left. 

The curtain slid around hiding them once more. Viktor took a deep breath and sat on the bed next to Sergei. He put a hand around Sergei’s shoulder to keep him from falling over. He felt terrible.

“Hey Viktor, do you think your girlfriend is working tonight?” Sergei asked grinning.

Viktor sighed. He felt less terrible.

 

Hermione was almost done for the day when Magda came racing towards her.

“Viktor Krum is here, with a friend.” Hermione put down the report she had just been reading and grabbed her wand. 

“What happened?”

“His friend crashed his broomstick. Fell a good 100 feet, hit some branches. Looks like part of his skull was possibly caved. Gave him a little potion 45 to prevent any more damage but he’ll probably need some intensive care. Haven’t got much else from them, they only just arrived. Looks like Krum went in after him and caught the poor guy before he hit the ground. Bed twelve.” Magda handed over the intake sheet. 

Hermione nodded walking faster. She drew back the sheet around bed twelve and sighed as she saw Viktor looking a little beat up but mostly unharmed.

“Hey pretty lady,” Sergei said grinning in a very dazed manner. Definite brain damage.

“I’ll call if I need help,” Hermione said. Magda laughed and left.

“His English has not improved,” Viktor said steadying his friend. He gave Hermione an apologetic smile.

Hermione drew her wand and set to work healing Sergei’s arm. She handed Sergei a numbing potion. He drank it easily, though Viktor did need to catch the bottle as it fell from Sergei’s hand. Hermione silently counted to ten and pushed the bone back into place to heal.

“You are even more beautiful than you were before.” Sergei said in rapid Bulgarian. Hermione looked at Viktor.

“He said you are beautiful,” Viktor translated.

“I can see why my friend is in love with you.” Sergei continued.

“He said you are very clever.”

“He has been in love with you for years, please marry him. He is so sick with love it actually concerns me. I am sure-”

“He says thank you for your work caring for him. He is sad he had an accident,” Viktor continued. 

He glared at Sergei. Sergei ignored him.

“His mother was so sad you never came to visit. She said she wanted to meet you at Hogwarts after reading all about you.”

“He says he remembers meeting you at Hogwarts,” Viktor sighed heavily and held Sergei still as Hermione took his pulse and checked his breathing. 

“Viktor and you would have the cutest babies. Please, marry him. He is rich and kind and will make you an excellent husband.” Sergei looked at the two of them with a big smile. 

“He says he is very glad we are friends as I get hurt often,” Viktor said.

Hermione started examining Sergei’s head.

“Viktor, are you translating what I am saying? It doesn’t look like it. Is he saying what I’m saying?” Sergei looked at Hermione who smiled gently and replied in lightly accented Bulgarian.

“No, he isn’t.” 

Sergei and Viktor both froze. Hermione smiled at Viktor.

“I’ve been taking lessons for a couple of years now. I was going to tell you when I got my certificate of competency.” 

Sergei looked between the two of them. Viktor turned to Sergei looking downright murderous. 

“So are you going to marry him?” Sergei asked.

Viktor’s hand shot out and Sergei’s head jerked back on impact.

“Viktor!” Hermione yelled. She pointed to the door. Viktor sighed. 

“Sorry Hermione. I will wait outside.” 

His shoulders slumped and he left heading for the waiting room.

Hermione glared at him and then turned to Sergei. Sergei looked a little apologetic.

“I deserved that,” he said. Hermione shook her head.

“What is it with men hitting each other?”

“Social conditioning?” Sergei suggested. Hermione rubbed an ointment on his head and tapped him a few times with her wand. 

“So, are you going to marry my friend?” Sergei asked after a moment.

“I just got divorced,” Hermione said.

“That’s not a no,” Sergei said. A giant smile spread over his face.

“You are very confused Sergei.”

“Oh a yes, you will marry him!” Sergei flung his arms backwards and Hermione struggled to keep him upright. “I want to be invited to the wedding. I will be best man. It will be wonderful! Please have it in Bulgaria, in the spring.” Hermione sighed.

Sergei begun telling her all about the beauty of the flowers and trees in spring and how pretty the mountain lakes were. 

Hermione nodded along noncommittally as her mind raced. Viktor was in love with her. How? Why? He had always been such a good friend. He had never once made a move on her, well except that kiss but that was more her than him. And when they were teenagers, but that had been a long time ago. Did Viktor really love her?

“He talks about you a lot you know,” Sergei said. 

Hermione looked back at him.

“Sorry was just doing a spell,” she lied. Sergei gave her a small smile.

“You seem disbelieving that he might love you?”

“We are friends,” Hermione said, more to herself than Sergei.

“He said the same thing. Perhaps you are becoming a little more than friends recently.” Sergei’s loopy smile made her sigh.

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But you, it seems are not getting better.”

“I can now see two of everything. Is that bad?” 

“How many of everything did you see before?” Hermione asked.

“It was a blur before.”

Hermione figured that was improvement enough. She reached into the potions cart and got a sleeping draught. There was nothing for it but rest now. Well, rest and some very   
complicated magic. 

“Drink this,” she instructed. 

Sergei didn’t hesitate and mere seconds later he was fast asleep on the bed. She lifted his feet up and tucked him in before going to check on Viktor.

She found him not two metres away with Magda. She was poking at him with her wand.

“I am fine I promise, this really isn’t necessary,” Viktor protested. 

Magda tutted and poked him with her wand again.

“Viktor, Sergei is sleeping now. Your turn.” 

Magda backed off and Hermione gripped his face perhaps a little firmer than necessary to look at his eyes.

“I am sorry about before. I should not have hit him,” Viktor said.

Hermione content his eyes were reacting normally pulled up his shirt to check his breathing.

“He said he deserved it,” she said in Bulgarian. Viktor took several deep breaths and Hermione, satisfied, took his pulse. 

“He definitely deserved it. I apologize for his, words. Sergei is somewhat exuberant in his,” Viktor’s words trailed off as he tried to apologise.

“Speak Bulgarian,” Hermione said grabbing his hand to examine the scratches and bruises he hadn’t noticed.

“Why?” Viktor asked.

“There are a lot of people listening to us right now. If you look over my shoulder you will see them.”

Viktor casually leaned around her and saw a half dozen people all pretending to be occupied but all watching them.

“Newspapers?” he asked.

“Work gossip,” Hermione replied with a smile.

“I see. I am sorry you heard what Sergei was saying. It was inappropriate.”

Hermione scoffed.

“It’s not the first time someone has spouted something strange at me in a foreign language. I have experienced much stranger I can assure you.”

Content in her examinations Hermione stepped back. 

“What were you doing for the rest of tonight?” Hermione asked.

“We were going to get some food and just relax. I guess he will be staying overnight though,” Viktor said tucking his shirt back in.

“Sergei needs rest and some intensive magic. Normally I would advise he stay overnight for treatment but I was thinking, perhaps I-” she hesitated. “My shift is pretty much ended.   
I could come back with you to do the incantation, save us a bed here. By the time he wakes up tomorrow he should feel back to normal if a little tired.”

“That would be a great help. If it’s not too much trouble.” 

“Is he staying with you?”

“No, I got him a hotel room. Didn’t think we’d both fit at my place.”

Hermione nodded and switched back to English.

“If you carry him to the entrance I’ll join you shortly. I just need to get the supplies for him.”

Viktor nodded and stood up.

“Thank you, Hermione,” he whispered.

She nodded and walked away towards the supply cupboard. 

Magda appeared behind her.

“I’m guessing Mister Sergei will be getting your personal care tonight,” Magda said.

“Yes, I can handle the incantation. Save the hospital a bed. Could you get the paperwork and see if Cliff will sign him out to me and Viktor?” Hermione measured out the plants needed and dropped them into a take away bag.

“So you’re going home with Viktor?” Magda asked.

“Oh yes, and the two of us will shag endlessly while his friend bleeds internally and slowly loses his brain function. It will be very romantic.” 

Hermione sealed the bag and double checked she had all she needed. She raised an eyebrow at Magda who stepped aside muttering about touchy witches.   
Cliff, an American wizard with a love of toffee, was more than happy to sign Sergei out to her. The roll of parchment in one hand and the herbs in the other Hermione joined Viktor and the floating unconscious Sergei at the entrance. 

“No apparating, it could do damage,” Hermione said. 

Viktor cast a featherlight charm and lifted Sergei into his arms. They left together, Hermione pretending she couldn’t feel the dozen pair of eyes on her as they did so. 

 

Hermione walked out of the bedroom to see Viktor sitting in front of the television fascinated. 

“How is he?” Viktor asked getting up.

“He should be fine from now on. That incantation just takes a long time. He will probably have a mild headache when he wakes up. He isn’t allowed any heavy lifting or strenuous activity for two days.”

“Thank you.” Viktor sat down again and Hermione came to sit beside him. With a sigh she lay her head in his lap and propped her feet up on the end of the couch.

For a minute neither of them spoke as she lay there her eyes closed.

“Five minutes then I can take care of you too,” she said.

Viktor gently stroked her hair.

“Take your time. I will be fine.”

“I will be the one to determine that,” Hermione muttered. Viktor laughed softly and watched her breathing even out. 

He sighed and continued to stroke her hair. She seemed much smaller now that she was sleeping. He smiled. It was probably because she was always bossing someone around while she was awake. 

“Sergei was right,” he whispered. “I do love you.” Hermione did not stir. Viktor looked back at the television continuing to stroke her hair.

 

Hermione had pretended not to hear but the words spun around inside her mind as she lay there. He had confessed he loved her. Was Sergei telling the truth? was Viktor actually in love with her? And if he was, did she love him back?

She couldn’t take it any longer and decided to “wake”.

Viktor stopped stroking her hair and she rose with a stretch.

“Your turn, shirt and pants off. I need to check you over.” 

He could have left his pants on but she was not above taking the opportunity to get a look at that amazing backside again. Viktor mumbled about being fine as he rose and stripped off his outer layers. 

Hermione smiled and drew her wand. She walked around him healing the dozens of cuts and bruises that he had sustained. Viktor watched her as she closely examined his body. Most of the damage had been to his hands and arms but he had a few cuts on his legs. Cuts she took great pains to examine and heal completely.

He bit his lip. He remembered Sergei’s words. If he didn’t make a move someone else would. He took a deep breath.

“Hermione, would you go a date with me?”

Hermione looked at him in surprise.

“I-”

“Before you answer, I promise if you say no nothing will change between us. But I like you, a lot. And I would like to try, if you are at all interested. I would like-” He looked at his feet. Why was he always so nervous when it came to asking her out? He forced himself to look back at her.

“I would very much like to date you.” 

He took a step then another. Hermione seemed somewhat stunned as he approached and took her hand in his.

“So Hermione, will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes.” It was barely more than a whisper but he heard and and he smiled. Then he felt nervous again and took a step back hiding his smile by dropping his head.

Hermione laughed and she grabbed his hand the two of them suddenly awkward but happy. She stood on the tips of her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He grinned.

“You can uh, put your clothes back on,” Hermione said. Viktor nodded and quickly redressed. 

“I’m going to head home. If Sergei takes a turn in any way you know where I am.” He nodded. And she left with a wave. The moment she was gone Viktor leapt into the air. He did it! He asked Hermione Granger on a date.


	7. The date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor get's tha chance to take Hermione on a date, and to confess a few things.

Viktor had only felt this nervous once before. Well, when he really thought about it several times, but all of them had been thanks to her. How could one woman- Hermione opened the door and all the air rushed out of his lungs as he saw her. She smiled at him and he suddenly felt like he had those seven years before seeing her approach the ship.

“Hello Viktor.”

“Hello Hermione.”

He felt a grin spread across his face as he turned and offered her his arm.

“This is familiar,” Hermione said sliding her arm in his. Viktor laughed.

“I think a fair few things will be familiar. Or at least as I promised. I couldn’t bring myself to put on my old dress robes though. I hope this is good enough.”

He swept a hand down his body to indicate the dark red shirt and black pants he wore. Hermione looked him over and nodded her approval. Then her eyes widened and she laughed looking at his broomstick in one hand and the small bag in the other.

“You’re finally taking me on that romantic picnic you promised,” Hermione said, delighted.

Viktor nodded.

“I hope we are not interrupted this time,” he said.

Hermione buried her face in her hands.

“Ron was absolutely wretched to you that night,” she said.

“The yelling about my being an ‘enemy’ was a bit over the top,” Viktor agreed.

“His understanding of sex also needed a little work,” Hermione added.

Viktor laughed remembering. He positioned the broomstick between his legs and helped Hermione to sit comfortably in front of him.

“I have you on the broom this time. He can’t catch us now,” Viktor said.

Viktor kicked off and laughed at Hermione’s surprised squeal. As they rose into the air she tapped him with her wand. The familiar feel of the disillusionment charm made him shiver.

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked above the rush of the wind.

“I know a lovely spot not far out of the city,” Viktor said turning the broom in the right direction.

“Is it a Quidditch pitch?” Hermione asked.

“No, but I dare say you will like it more.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around him and held tight. He smiled at her and the broom shot forward. She held tighter and he found he couldn’t stop smiling. He glanced down at Hermione who was watching the ground below them. She looked a little afraid. He wrapped an arm around her waist bringing her lower over the broom.

“I have you,” he said.

She gave him a tight hug.

“I know,” she said.

 

The ground below was a blur and the dying light had bathed everything in a warm glow. She had been a little concerned about the weather but Viktor had been right, the rain had cleared in time for their date. As they left the city behind Hermione let her mind wander. Viktor was taking her on a romantic picnic at last.

She turned her face into his chest and breathed in his scent. It was remarkably similar to what it had been the night of the Yule ball. Leather, soap, and something woodsy. Despite the way it had ended it, the night of the Yule ball had been one of the most magical nights of her life.

She had been so nervous when she approached the ship but Viktor had been waiting for her, just like he’d promised. She’d still half expected it would be a prank. That he would laugh when he saw her and tell her it had just been a joke. But he hadn’t, he had offered her his arm and told her how pleased he was to see her. Viktor had shown her the ship and answered all her questions about the various navigation equipment. Throughout her time on the ship the other Durmstrang boys had been extremely courteous to her. Karkaroff had told her she looked beautiful and Sergei loudly called her pretty lady in his broken English. Even the other Durmstrang boys’ dates had been nice to her. She suspected much of her kind treatment was because of Viktor.

She had felt like a princess on his arm. Everyone’s reaction to their entrance had given her some level of petty satisfaction. But her mind had been on Viktor who hadn't seemed able to stop himself from smiling at her.

The broom slowed and Hermione saw they were coming in to land on a hill. She held tighter. Viktor chuckled as they came to a stop.

“You may put your feet down now,” he said.

Hermione slowly slid of the broom and looked around. They were in a meadow on the side of a large hill. In the distance she could see lights but all around them there was nothing but trees, grass and a herd of cows far to their left.

Viktor set his broom aside and opened the small bag he had brought along. With a wave of his wand a blanket unfolded and settled on the grass, then a picnic basket and-

Hermione gasped as dozens of tiny paper doves came flying out of the bag. Viktor waved his wand in a complicated pattern and the doves begun to glow like candles. They gently floated around them bathing their little patch of meadow in warm yellow light.

“Viktor, they’re beautiful,” she said.

“Sergei taught me how to make them, a few are a bit messy.”

He pointed to one of the doves near her. She caught it with her hands. It felt warm but not hot. She examined it closely seeing the fold lines had been redone once or twice. She turned to him amazed.

“You made them by hand?”

“I wanted them to be special,” Viktor said.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“But there’s dozens of them. They must have taken you hours,” she said looking at him alarmed.

“Is it too much?” he asked.

Hermione looked at his nervous face to the doves still floating gracefully around them.

“No,” she said “They’re perfect.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“I also made dinner,” he said.

Hermione laughed and they sat on the blanket. From the basket Viktor removed a bottle of wine, roast vegetables, a salad and a chicken. “I have dessert too,” he said transfiguring two rocks into wineglasses.

“How long did this take you?” she asked.

Viktor offered her a glass.

“I’ll never tell you,” he said with a smile.

Hermione sighed and tried to glare at him but she just smiled instead.

“I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“Of course I did,” he said pouring her wine. “Sergei suggested a string quartet but I thought that might be a bit much.”

Hermione laughed. Something in her felt so very light. Viktor had always made her feel special. Somehow she had forgotten that. Or maybe she had just never taken the time to appreciate him before. They started on the food. How the man was such a good cook she didn’t know. It must be magic. She told him as much and he laughed.

“Or I trained as a chef in Bulgaria.” Hermione gaped at him. “I knew I couldn’t be a Quidditch player all my life, and well, my father was a chef. It seemed a good fit as my fall back.”

Hermione lay back laughing. “How has Witch Weekly never discovered this?” Hermione asked.

“They have no one on staff who can read Bulgarian,” Viktor replied lying down beside her.

“Is that what you’re going to do when you retire, be a chef?”

“I think so, I’ll open a nice little cafe, do breakfast and lunch. No dinner, too much effort.”

Hermione sighed.

“Do you have a name for this cafe?”

“Yes,” he hesitated “I lost a bet and so it will be called Fleur’s.”

Hermione burst out laughing.

“Will you have a specialty?”

“Yes, omelets.”

Hermione rolled over to look at him.

“Well in ten years when you finally retire and open it I want to be your first customer.”

His smile faded and he took a deep breath.

“Hermione, I’m not going back to the Bulgarian team,” Viktor said.

Hermione sat up confused.

“What do you mean? I know your defeat last year was really hard on you but I didn’t think you would quit after one bad game? You’ll win again. You’ve been amazing all season.”

Viktor shook his head slowly giving her a small smile.

“Do you know Professor Green?” he asked.

“Emilio Green? The-”

“Ophthalmologist, yes.”

Her entire face softened.

“How bad?” she asked.

“The many years of strain I have put on my eyes as a seeker have finally caught up with me. In the last world cup, it got bad. I hadn’t noticed it before but then in the middle of the game everything went blurry and that’s why I missed. My sight recovered after some intensive work in Bulgaria but we needed to know for sure, and well Professor Green is the best in the world. He’s why I came to London earlier this year”

“What did he say?”

“I’ll need to get glasses next year. Until then, I apply a potion to my eyes every night and wear a specially charmed eye mask. I’ll probably need to do so for the rest of my life. It’s stopped a lot of the more drastic damages, but he doubts I’ll be able to play at the international level ever again. If I did I would probably accelerate the decline. If I stop and look after my eyes he is confident I should have my current level of vision for the next ten years. Provided I wear glasses and continue to treat them every night.”

“Oh Viktor, I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Thank you. I’m no longer upset about it. At the time I was rather crushed, but as I thought about it my view changed. I have done more than I ever hoped to as a player. I have won the Quidditch World cup three times. I have brought glory to my country and secured my place in history. Now I wonder who else I am, who am I when I am not Viktor Krum, the greatest seeker in the world?”

Hermione gave him a small smile.

“Well, you’re the first man to ever take me on a romantic date,” she said.

“Ron never-”

“He’s not the most romantic of men. He certainly had his moments but most of our dates were a dinner out and sex when we got home. Nice but not exactly creative. On Valentine’s day he would get me roses but that was about the extent of his romantic notions.” “He never made paper doves by hand?” Viktor asked. “Ron did everything with magic, well almost everything.”

Viktor smiled and topped up their wine. They lay back on the blanket once more content to watch the magic doves soar around them.

“Do you remember the Yule ball?” Hermione asked.

Viktor scoffed.

“Yes, I remember.”

“Do you remember how you asked me to the ball?” Hermione said.

Viktor groaned and covered his face.

“That was a disaster,” he mumbled.

“It was,” Hermione agreed.

“I am still astounded you agreed to go with me.”

Hermione laughed.

“You were very cute, in a disastrous way.”

“Which Professor was it that had to help me?”

“McGonagall,” Hermione said.

Viktor groaned and mumbled something in Bulgarian.

“What was it she said? Oh yes,” Hermione did her best impersonation of Professor McGonagall’s tone. “Miss Granger I do believe Mr Krum is asking you to the ball.”

“I was very nervous,” Viktor said defensively.

“That you were, honestly if you hadn’t been I would never have agreed to go. I was sure it was a prank.”

“Even after I took you flying?”

“Yes, even then.”

“Why is that?”

“You were the Bulgarian seeker, hero of the world cup, Durmstrang champion, three years older than me and I was just, me.” Viktor lifted her hand to his lips.

“Being a teenager is hard,” he said.

“Our teenage years were rather difficult weren’t they?”

“Yours more than mine.”

They both fell silent again. Viktor waved his wand and snow begun to fall over them. Unlike normal snow it was warm and didn’t melt. Hermione smiled and waved her wand. Ice begun to grow slowly forming a dome around them that included the snow and doves.

“Nothing can see or hear us now,” she said smiling at him.

“We are in our own little world,” Viktor said.

Hermione kissed him. He kissed her back. Everything felt so very, well, magical. Viktor’s hands came up to hold Hermione’s face as her hands made short work of the buttons on his shirt. She pulled away and he grinned taking off his shirt and kissing her again. Hermione’s hands started on her own clothing. She pulled the dress over her head and Viktor stopped stunned. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He reached out to gently touch her. He saw her smile and he pulled her closer. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he suddenly became very nervous.

“Um, Hermione,” he whispered. She stopped and looked at him.

“Is this okay Viktor, we can slow down,” she said.

“No, I, uh,” he swallowed. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered.

Hermione frowned.

“Done what?”

Viktor coughed.

“I’m uh,” he hesitated and looked at her.

She was looking nervous now, like she had as she approached the ship. He was going to have to tell her.

“I’m a virgin,” he mumbled.

Hermione blinked and he watched her absorb the information.

“Do you want to have sex now?” she asked.

“Yes!” he said quickly. “I would love to have sex with you right now. I just, I have no idea what to do.”

He was breathing heavily, terrified she would get off him. That she would leave, that she would laugh at him. Instead she gave him a very Hermione smile.

“Don’t worry Viktor,” she said gently pushing him back to lie on the blanket. “I’ll teach you.”

He grinned as she begun to kiss her way down his body.

“What if I’m too fast?” he asked.

Mortified he covered his mouth and felt a blush rush into his cheeks. Hermione laughed.

“There’s more than one way to please a woman,” she said moving still lower. “Besides this is just round one.”

Viktor gaped at her. Her hands moved appreciatively down his body, coming to rest on the fastening of his pants. He was both extremely aroused and terrified as she undid the buttons before pulling down his pants and underwear. Hermione gave him one last smile before wrapping her hands around his-

 

Ron knew what he was doing was stupid. He had come to apologise to her and hopefully talk things out. He had his whole speech planned out. Instead he saw her getting on a broomstick with Viktor. They clearly hadn’t seen him before they left. That had been hours ago and yet here he was still waiting. He just wanted to know if she was coming back.

He sighed and looked down at the flowers again. He could still apologise. Everything would be alright, as long as she came home. They could try again. He knew he’d made mistakes, and a lot of them. But he was sure she’d forgive him. That’s what his parents always did. He’d apologise, she’d lecture him and then she’d give him a kiss on the cheek and they could get rid of those stupid divorce papers.

He leaned back against the wall. Another hour, then he would go home. There was a rush of air above his head as they returned. He watched as Hermione broke the disillusionment charm. They looked disheveled the pair of them covered in, _was that snow?_

Hermione got off the broom and pulled Viktor close for a long kiss.

Ron felt like he’d just been punched.

“Come inside,” Hermione said her eyes on Viktor.

“For?” Viktor asked.

Hermione laughed.

“Maybe round six, if you’re up for it, in the shower. Then I expect sleep at last.”

Ron couldn’t see Viktor’s face but he heard the reply.

“Anything you say Miss Granger.”

Laughing Hermione pulled him through the door with her.

It closed and Ron felt like the world had just become a lot darker. A rage seemed to fill him. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there letting the anger boil. He had come to mend their marriage, to make everything normal. To get everything back to how it should be and she- _She was with Viktor_. She was fucking him right now. And not for the first time, the sixth. He started shaking as he thought about it. _She was his wife. Still his_. He hadn’t-

A meow drew his attention. Crookshanks sat on the steps watching him. Ron glared at the cat. Crookshanks meowed again.

“You always did like him better,” Ron muttered throwing the flowers away and storming off.

He knew someone who would pay quite a lot to know all about their little date…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, Christmas and a lovely bout of illness kind of wiped me out for a bit.   
> Next time: the word is out and Hermione is not happy.


	8. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Ginny pay Ron a little visit after reading the morning paper.

A loud banging woke Hermione early the next morning. Viktor jolted awake next to her and for a moment she was surprised to see him. Then memories of their date flooded through her and she wanted to climb on top of him and do it all over again.

The banging continued however. Hermione groaned as Viktor got up then stopped.

“Should I… hide?” he asked.

Hermione laughed and shook her head. Putting on a robe she went to answer the door while Viktor scrambled around gathering his clothes.

“What’s the big emergency?” Hermione asked as she opened the door.

Ginny tumbled in and slammed the door behind herself. Hermione watched her bewildered. Ginny looked Hermione up and down.

“You should read the paper,” Ginny said. 

She held out a copy of the Daily Prophet to Hermione, who frowning, took it. 

It was on the front page. Two pictures accompanied the article, one of her and the other of Viktor. Thankfully they had used professional shots not the ones from before. ‘Long running affair confirmed’ read the headline. 

Hermione snorted. She checked the byline and saw Rita Skeeter once more. Mindful of Ginny’s early appearance Hermione started reading. At first it seemed like the usual lies but then she realised it wasn’t all lies. She read faster her anger growing the more she read.

“Long standing affair, overtures of BDSM, a nymphomaniac, still married!” Hermione yelled.

Ginny nodded sadly. Hermione looked back at the article her hands shaking as she reread it. Skeeter had to be spying on them, but how? Hermione turned to Viktor as he emerged from the bedroom pants on and shirt hanging open. 

“Oh wow,” Ginny said blinking at Viktor.

“Hello Ginny, what has happened?”

“Someone was spying on us when we left and returned last night. I don’t know how or why,” Hermione said handing him the paper. 

Viktor placed a comforting hand around her waist as he read the article. Hermione ignored Ginny’s pointed staring and exaggerated expressions of shock. 

“Someone was definitely watching us last night,” he agreed. “But who would wait around for six hours-”

At that moment Crookshanks leapt onto the couch and dropped a crushed bouquet of flowers at Hermione’s feet.

As one they all turned to the flowers and silence fell over the room. Crookshanks turned and walked towards his bowl.

Hermione bent down and picked up the flowers. It was a dozen white roses, with a card. She plucked the card from the flowers and read it. 

A rage like she had never known filled her as everything clicked into place. She handed Viktor the card and he froze. Ginny, not one to be left out of the loop, grabbed the card and swore. They both ducked as Hermione threw the flowers into the air, closely followed by a fireball. Tiny flecks of ash floated in the air where the flowers had been.

Ginny looked from Hermione to the floating ash. Viktor very carefully placed his hands on Hermione’s shoulders. She looked up at him.

“It’ll be okay,” he said gently. 

She nodded and he waved his wand transfiguring her robe into jeans and a jumper. 

“Why would he do this?” she whispered. 

Ginny walked to the door giving them privacy.

“He probably wasn’t thinking. Men are stupid,” Viktor said.

“You’re a man,” Hermione said with a smile.

“I openly admit I am very stupid, especially around you,” Viktor said.

Hermione smiled up at him and he gave her a soft kiss.

“Will I see you again?” Hermione whispered. 

“Of course, I have to go to training but maybe later I could take you to dinner?”

“I’m working a night shift.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“I could do an early dinner, I’m working again,” Hermione said.

“I’ll meet you at four thirty then, we can go for a walk then dinner before you leave.”

“Or you could just come over here at four thirty and make me dinner,” Hermione suggested.

Viktor grinned and nodded.

“I’ll send an owl,” he promised. He kissed her once more before opening a window and dropping out of it disapparating before he reached the ground.

Ginny turned to Hermione. She held out her hand.

“I’ll stop Mum from interfering,” Ginny said.

Hermione nodded taking her hand they disapparated.

 

  
They reapparated next to the shed outside the burrow. There was a crash sound from inside and they both turned to see Mr Weasley emerging from the shed. 

“Hello Ginny, oh, Hermione! What are you two up to?” Mr Weasley asked.

“We’re going to go yell at Ron for being an absolute prick,” Ginny said with a smile.

Mr Weasley’s smile faded. 

“Right.” He patted his hands on his pants. “I’ll be in to uh, help with your mother shortly.” He nodded to Ginny who agreed.

Ginny and Hermione started towards the house before Mr Weasley called out to them.

“Just uh, what has he done this time?”

Ginny turned and smiled.

“He suggested to Rita Skeeter that Hermione was engaging in salacious behaviors with Viktor Krum while they were married. Now it’s front page news.”

Mr Weasley opened then closed his mouth. After a moment he nodded.

“I’ll follow you then,” he said joining them as they walked towards the house.

As they reached the door Mrs Weasley came barging out an angry look on her face.

Ginny moved to intercept only to be beaten to it by Mr Weasley who took his wife by the arm spinning her away from the two of them with a cheery greeting and something about magnets. 

Hermione and Ginny entered the house headed for the stairs. Silently they approached Ron’s door each of them taking a side. With a nod they opened it to see him asleep on his bed a half empty bottle of Firewhisky on the floor beside him. Hermione nodded to Ginny who raised her wand.

Water shot out of Ginny’s wand bringing Ron screaming to consciousness. Hermione waved her wand sending his shooting out of reach. Ron stopped yelling as he recognised his attackers. 

They both glared at him. Ron looked back dripping wet, still in his jeans from the night before. 

“Good morning Ronald,” Hermione said softly.

“Hello Hermione,” he muttered.

“Morning shit head,” Ginny said.

Ron grunted and tossed aside his now soaking wet blankets.

“We read some very interesting things in the paper this morning,” Ginny said. “Some things that someone would only know if they were waiting outside Hermione’s house for a good six hours.”

Ron looked from Ginny to Hermione and briefly to the bottle of fire whiskey. 

“We were wondering who might possibly have done such a thing when Crookshanks dropped a bouquet of flowers in front of us. Flowers with this card,” Ginny produced the

card with a flourish.

“I’m sorry I’m a git. Love, Ron,” Hermione read.

Ron looked from the card to Hermione. Hermione tossed the newspaper at his feet. Ron very carefully picked up the newspaper and read it. After a minute he put it beside himself on the bed. He looked at Hermione.

“So what’s the going rate for information about my sex life?” Hermione asked.

“I’d say ten galleons. You’re very popular,” Ginny said. 

With a wave of her wand Ginny caught the money bag beside Ron’s bed and looked inside. Ron didn’t move.

“Thirty sickles,” Ginny said, counting.

“How biblical,” Hermione muttered. 

Ron blinked.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Ginny asked. 

Ron ignored her and continued to look at Hermione. Hermione glared back for once unmoved by his face. He had crossed a line she didn’t know she had.

“You know the worst part of the article isn’t the lies and scandalous accusations, or even you overhearing a private conversation. It’s one very small sentence right towards the end. You not only told Rita Skeeter that we were still married, you told her we were getting back together.”

Hermione waved her wand and the divorce papers flew into her hand. She placed them and a quill on the bedside table.

“You are going to sign these Ron. You are going to sign them and set us both free from what is very quickly becoming a toxic relationship.” 

“We can fix it,” Ron whispered.

“No Ron we can’t,” Hermione replied. “Sign the papers.”

“I can’t,” he said. 

“Why not?” Ginny demanded.

“Because I don’t want to be replaced by Viktor Krum!” Ron yelled.

Hermione sighed deeply and Ginny rolled her eyes.

“You’re not being replaced you twat, she’s just moved on. Your marriage was a bad idea from the start. I’m honestly amazed you lasted this long,” Ginny said.

Hermione and Ron looked at her in surprise.

“How long have you thought this?” Hermione asked.

“Since your final year at Hogwarts, well his final year, you went back of course.”

Ron glared at her.

“How could you possibly have-”

“Because you two fight all the time Ron. Which is fine when you’re friends but not when you’re a couple. You need separate lives. Opposites might attract but you both have to be magnets first.”

Hermione and Ron both looked at her bewildered. Ginny gave Hermione a smile.

“Dad was telling me about magnets recently. He’s been taking science classes at the Muggle school in the village. It’s driving Mum crazy but some of it is actually really interesting,” she explained.

Ron made a noise and Ginny’s attention snapped back to him.

“The point is you’re not a good pair, you’re not even really opposites you’re just different people. You want different things in life and you need to stop trying to make each other fit into that because neither of you can get what you want and need from each other.”

It seemed Ginny had been wanting to say this for years. The words poring out of her faster and faster as though afraid one of them would stop her.

“Hermione, you want to be in both the Muggle and the magical world at once, bridging them and taking the best parts. You want to heal the whole damn nation after the war and I believe you can. But to do that you need a partner who is able to support you. And I don’t mean by telling everyone you’re amazing. Everyone already knows that. You need someone who will take care of the little things for you, like dinner. You need a partner who won’t mind that you’re awake at all hours dealing with patients and reading up on new discoveries. You need someone who can fit their life around you, at least for a few years.”

Ginny gave Hermione a strangely pointed look before turning back to Ron.

“Ron, you are not that person. You are not happy being the invisible support. You want to be taken care of. You need to stop trying to be who you think you should be and start being yourself. Ronald Weasley is not an incredible dark wizard hunter. He is a smart and talented thinker who should go work with his brother in the joke shop. Then maybe you’d actually go out once in a while and meet someone who wants to get married, settle down and have a pile of babies with you.”

Ron looked from Ginny to Hermione.

“But I love her,” he muttered.

“Then let her be happy,” Ginny insisted. 

She pushed the papers a little closer to Ron. Hermione sighed.

“She’s right Ron, we were never going to last. We have different goals in our lives, different needs. That doesn’t make either of us the bad guy. So please, just sign the papers and let it go.”

Finally Ron picked up the quill and signed his name. 

Hermione felt a weight lift off her as he put down the quill. Ginny picked up the papers and after a quick inspection handed them to Hermione.

“I know I fucked up,” Ron said. Ginny raised her wand and Ron fell silent. He collapsed backwards onto the bed. 

“You didn’t think you’d get off that easy?” Ginny said. “You’re going to be calling in sick for quite a while, brother. The time in bed will do you some good I think.”

Ginny removed a sweet from her pocket. 

“These are still a prototype but I have been assured that the desired effect will occur.” She fed the sweet to Ron who started shaking. 

Hermione removed the spell holding him in place and Ron rolled over to vomit over the side of his bed.

“I’ll give you the cure when I stop by next,” Ginny promised.

With one last look at the now very pale Ron they left.

“Will he be okay?” Hermione asked tucking the divorce papers into a pocket. 

“Don’t you worry about him. He deserved far worse than that. A week or two off sick will do him some good. He’s been working non stop since you broke up. It hasn’t been good for him.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs to be confronted with Mrs Weasley.

“What did you do to him now?” she demanded.

“Hermione just came to get the divorce papers,” Ginny said stepping between them. “I on the other hand might have fed him something. He’s been vomiting ever since.”

Mrs Weasley made a noise of outrage and shoved past the two of them as she raced upstairs.

Hermione and Ginny made a swift exit waving goodbye to Mr Weasley as they headed for the gate. Hermione gave Ginny a quick hug before leaving.

 

Heads turned as she walked through the Ministry. She nodded to a few people as she walked but for the most part she kept focused on her destination. Finally reaching it she took her number and sat to wait. 

People looked over at her from their places on the chairs. A few dared to smile at her. One hid the cover of their newspaper with a sheepish smile. Hermione smiled back and waited. 

Her number was called at last and she made her way to the bench.

“Ernie?” 

Ernie Macmillan grinned at her.

“Hello Hermione. How have you been?”

“Well thank you. I didn’t know you worked here,”

“I’m the head of the department. There’s been a flu going around though so I’m filling in.” He gave her a small smile. “Now, how can I help you?”

“I need to file these divorce papers.” 

She handed them over and watched Ernie try his best to remain professional. 

“I’ll uh, just get these sorted.”

Ernie shuffled several papers, stamped several more and wrote a lot of numbers and letters down.

“Is there a reason for the time difference in your signatures?” Ernie asked.

“Ron didn’t want to sign them. Even though he was the one who got the papers in the first place.”

Ernie nodded and made several notes.

“Right.” He stamped the divorce papers and two receipts. “Here’s your paper to prove that you are no longer married, I will have the second sent to Mr Weasley this afternoon.

You are now divorced.”

Ernie handed over the paper. 

“Could you repeat that a little louder?” Hermione whispered.

Ernie looked at her confused.

“There’s been a lot said about me in the papers Ernie. I want people to know.” Hermione said. Ernie looked from her to the other people waiting and gave her a bright smile. 

“There you are Miss Granger,” he said loudly. “Your divorce is finalized at last. Hopefully we will see you for something more cheerful next time.”

“Thank you Ernie.” Hermione said with a bright smile. “Give Justin my regards.”

“I will,” Ernie promised. 

Hermione left with a bright smile and a spring in her step as whispers broke out behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time Viktor has a surprise family visit.


	9. Viktor's mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor gets a surprise house guest, their relationship starts getting a lot more serious.   
> With bonus drunk Harry.

Hermione wrote her last answer with a flourish as the call came ordering all pens down. Hermione stretched as her paper was collected. She smiled at a student sitting next to her. He looked rather ill. Hermione walked from the exam hall into the pouring rain with a smile. 

Across the courtyard leaning against a pillar, a book in one hand and an umbrella in the other, was Viktor. His new reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.

Hermione raced across the courtyard and threw herself into his arms. He laughed catching her awkwardly as she kissed him.

“I take it someone did well on their exam,” he said.

“I was disappointed. I had heard it was terribly difficult,” Hermione said.

Viktor shook his head and the rain got heavier. He watched other students clustering around shaking their heads, talking in whispers. 

“Since my final exam is now over I think we should celebrate. You can cook me dinner,” she said.

Viktor looked at the rain and grinned offering his arm.

“I’ll make something special, something from home. Musaka.” Viktor said.

“That’s Bulgarian?” she asked.

“We make it with potato instead of egg plant,” Viktor explained.

The rain was falling even heavier now and they both smiled watching people running for cover. 

“Your place,” she suggested.

Viktor nodded. Hermione held him closely as they disapparated. 

They apparated in his bedroom. Viktor tossed away the umbrella and his book pulling Hermione onto the bed.

“Viktor!” Hermione yelled. “You shouldn’t treat books like that.”

He started kissing his way down her neck as she laughed. She could forgive him a little book mistreatment. As he started to undo her jacket she decided they could delay dinner for just a little while. 

The door banged open and a heavily accented voice made them both freeze.

“Viktor Krum!”

Hermione watched as the colour drained from Viktor’s face. Slowly he moved backwards and turned to face the speaker.

“Hello Mother,” he said brightly.

Hermione scrambled off the bed and looked at the doorway. Viktor’s mother stood there one hand on the door knob the other on her hip. Something about her expression strongly reminded her of her own mother, just in very different circumstances. 

Viktor’s mother was tall and elegant in stylish plum robes. Her black hair was in a neat bun and decorated with several feathers that matched her robes. Mrs Krum’s eyes moved from her son to Hermione who fought the urge to fidget.

“I see Sergei told the truth. You have got yourself a woman,” she said in Bulgarian.

“Mother, this is Hermione Granger, my girlfriend. Hermione this is my mother, Elena Krum.”

Mrs Krum blinked and looked more closely at Hermione. It seemed it took her a moment to process the name. Then she gave Hermione a small smile. 

“Miss Granger is it? I apologise for interrupting, it is nice to meet you at last.” 

She moved forward and offered Hermione her hand. Hermione, cautious of the very long nails, gently shook it.

“A pleasure to meet you Mrs Krum. Viktor has told me so much about you,” Hermione said politely. 

She fought the urge to blush as she considered just what his mother had walked in on. 

“All good things I hope,” Mrs Krum said. She seemed completely unfazed. 

“Of course, Mother,” Viktor said with a smile. “There is nothing bad I could say about you.”

Mrs Krum raised an eyebrow giving Viktor a very severe look, but then she smiled and patted him fondly on the cheek.

“Don’t tease your mother,” she chided. 

Viktor smiled and just then they heard another voice, this one coming from the kitchen.

“Am I allowed to talk now?” it asked in English.

Viktor’s face broke into a smile as he stuck his head through the door to see the owner of the voice.

“Sofia, what are you doing here?” he asked.

A young woman of about eighteen appeared in the doorway. She was much shorter than Viktor but the resemblance was unmistakable. This was his younger sister. 

Sofia looked very different from her mother. Where Elena Krum was thin and elegant with long hair and a feminine grace Sofia was the opposite. She was short, with the same hooked nose as Viktor and appeared somewhat stocky, though Hermione suspected that was mostly due to her clothes. She wore very baggy jeans and what appeared to be a band t-shirt covered by a red flannel shirt. A bulky leather jacket covered in patches was sliding off one shoulder and Hermione thought she saw the edge of a woolen jumper poking out from under the band shirt. Sofia’s hair was mostly covered by a thick navy coloured beanie but Hermione could see it was short with bright green tips. 

Several holes in Sofia’s ears and nose suggested they had been pierced at some point but all the piercings had evidently been removed. Hermione suspected by Mrs Krum. 

Sofia grinned at Hermione and walked forwards extending a hand.

“Sofia Krum, Viktor’s little sister,” she said brightly.

“Hermione Granger.”

Hermione shook Sophia’s hand. She had an almost instant liking towards Sofia. She strongly reminded Hermione of Tonks. Sofia beamed. Hermione felt something in her tighten. It was in the smile, the same mischief was in their smiles. Hermione coughed quickly to hide the emotions that had suddenly welled up inside her. 

“I’ve heard so much about you from Vik. I’m absolutely thrilled to meet you at last,” Sofia said letting go of her hand.

Hermione noticed Sofia’s English had a distinctly American tinge to it. Viktor gave his sister a brief hug. 

“It’s lovely to see you both, but why are you here? I thought you were coming to visit next month. I had your hotel all booked,” Viktor said.

Mrs Krum nodded.

“There’s been another incident,” Mrs Krum said looking angrily at Sofia. 

Viktor sighed heavily. 

“Really Mother,” he said. 

“Well what else should I call them?” Mrs Krum said.

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“Mother I have made my stance on this quite clear. I see nothing wrong with Sofia, or her actions,”

“Well you might not, but a quite a few others do. This time it’s not so much her actions as the aftermath of them.” Mrs Krum switched almost seamlessly from English to

Bulgarian as she spoke. 

“No matter what you call it I am afraid we see no other choice. She is eighteen now and after this latest scandal your father and I are agreed, she needs some time away from Bulgaria. I have brought her to you. As her older brother I expect you to take care of her.” 

Mrs Krum walked into the lounge room and collected her handbag. She gave Viktor a kiss on the cheek and Sofia a brief hug before extending her hand to Hermione once more.

“I am sorry my visit is so short. I really must get back home to smooth some things over. I am sure we will have the chance to get know each other better next time,”

Hermione nodded shaking Mrs Krum’s hand once more. With a very motherly look at her children she disapparated. 

Viktor sighed heavily.

“What happened?” Viktor asked in Bulgarian.

“Do you remember Maria?” Sofia asked.

“Maria, with the eight older brothers? Maria who you’ve been getting into trouble with for the last four years? That Maria?”

“Yeah,” Sofia switched back to English. “I might have been caught in a very delicate situation with her.”

Viktor walked into the lounge and sat down with a sigh.

“How delicate?” he asked.

“My entire hand might have been inside her,” Sofia said. 

Viktor gaped at her. He seemed unsure what to say.

Hermione laughed and sat next to him. Sofia grinned at them both and, seeing no other chairs, leaned on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t know whether to be proud or not,” Viktor said.

Sofia grinned and poked her tongue out at him, she was clearly proud of herself.

“That can’t be all though. If that was it you would have just gotten a lecture from mother and father would have made you work nights for the next month.”

“Her mother caught us and her father might have tried to,” Sofia looked at her feet and mumbled something.

“Sofia,” Viktor rose and gave his sister a very concerned look. 

“He tried to curse me so I, defended myself. Her parents might have been stunned and, eventually so were her grandparents. Maybe a couple of her brothers are now a bit cursed.”

Viktor swore.

“Is Maria alright?”

“Oh yeah, her family is convinced I keep bewitching her or something. Love potions is their current theory. She’ll pretend to date a guy for a few weeks to placate them until we can arrange our next meeting.”

Viktor sighed heavily and sat down again.

“So she’s fine but, her entire family is trying to kill you now?” he asked.

“I think they just want to beat me up. Like I said they were just stunned, no one was seriously hurt,” Sofia said.

Viktor rubbed the back of his neck.

“You can stay with me, I’ll see about getting you your own place soon,” he said.

“Thanks,” Sofia said. “And sorry for ruining your evening. I saw what you had in the fridge.”

Sofia winked at Hermione. 

“I’ll find my own place soon. I won’t get in your way too much,” she promised.

“No, you’re my little sister and I’ll look after you. It will be alright. Everything will blow over in a couple of months and you can go home and-”

“I don’t want to go home Vik.”

Viktor and Sofia exchanged a long look. A silent conversation seemed to be taking place. Finally Viktor nodded. 

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do about getting you a visa. In the mean time you can stay here until I find you a place of your own. But first we need dinner and since we are celebrating the end of Hermione’s exams I will take us all out.”

He rose and helped Hermione to her feet. The three of them made their way downstairs and out into the rain. Sofia quickly broke off to get them a taxi leaving Hermione and

Viktor waiting in the doorway.

“I’m sorry about this,” Viktor said.

“It’s alright, I understand,” Hermione kissed Viktor on the cheek. “And your sister seems nice.”

“I don’t suppose I could stay at your place tonight? Then Sofia won’t have to sleep on the couch.”

Hermione grinned.

“Of course.”

Sofia called to them from the inside of a taxi and they ran through the rain to join her.

 

Viktor’s things, which had been slowly migrating into Hermione’s apartment, now seemed to be moving at an exponentially faster pace as Viktor made room for his sister.

Hermione kept expecting him to irritate her, or for his stuff to set off some kind of panic about how fast they were moving. But somehow neither happened. Instead she found herself smiling whenever she came home to see him. 

Something in her relaxed after a long shift knowing he would be waiting at home. The other changes were gradual but welcome. There was now always food in her fridge, Crookshanks had a proper feeding schedule going, and the days she had work her bag had a proper lunch packed. In the evenings she would curl up on the couch and read medical journals while he watched TV or read a book. And every night she got to curl up against his deliciously warm body.

Crookshanks was loving it. Viktor had slowly been changing over his food from biscuits to fresh ingredients, a change he seemed to greatly appreciate. That and the constant roaring fire he kept alight in the decorative fireplace. Her new home which had been nice now seemed to become comfortable. Dishes she would leave at night would be washed when she awoke, her files which would be strewn all over the table would be collected while she was at work and sorted back into neat piles for her to continue reading the next night. Most surprising to Hermione, every night when she went to bed, th bed was made. 

When Viktor gently asked if he could place hooks in the wall to hold his broomstick she simply smiled and nodded telling him “Of course, you live here too.” 

Viktor had gotten a very odd expression at her words and mumbled a lot of Bulgarian she hadn’t been quite able to catch.

They had been living together for just over three weeks when Hermione decided it was time to have friends over. A small test to see how people would react to their living together. 

Harry and Ginny were the obvious choice. They came for dinner, Viktor cooked. Neither said anything about the presence of Viktor’s thing’s in her apartment. Though Ginny did look very carefully at Viktor’s broomstick upon the wall for several minutes. Harry of course was completely oblivious. Hermione doubted Harry had noticed anything out of the ordinary at all.

Over dinner the four of them got very drunk and started several wizard drinking games that only made their condition worse. After Harry jumped on the table and loudly declared himself to be the chosen one before falling backwards onto the floor they collectively decided it was time for bed. 

Viktor managed to stumble his way towards the bedroom charming his clothes off one at a time with moderate success. He somehow managed to turn his belt bright yellow before it fell to the ground. Ginny squinted after him before investigating Harry’s whereabouts. Somehow after falling off the table he had managed to crawl somewhere.

Hermione conjured a stack of blankets on the couch for Harry and Ginny. She looked around for Harry for a few minutes but Ginny returned from the bathroom muttering about him being an idiot. At Hermione’s expression Ginny just shook her and dropped onto the couch. She drunkenly pointed to the broomstick on the wall.

“I see Viktor’s teaching you to fly.”

Hermione nodded and handed her a pillow before making her way to the bedroom and Viktor. He was already asleep when she entered. His long limbs spread out over the blankets and one sock, now blue and polka dot patterned, still on. With a smile she put his eye drops in and then placed the charmed eye mask over his eyes. He slept on unmoving as she pulled off his remaining sock and dropped into bed beside him. Hermione curled herself around him with a contented sigh and silently prayed the coming hangover wasn’t too bad.

 

Her prayer was answered. At about ten thirty Hermione managed to extract herself from Viktor and head into the kitchen. Ginny was asleep on the couch, her feet hung over the end with three blankets twisted around her body and over her head. 

After drinking a vial of hangover cure Hermione pointed her wand at the teapot with a smile. The potion would only take the edge off for about an hour but she had Muggle solutions for after that. She was on the third page of the paper when Viktor came stumbling out in a pair of shorts. He looked decidedly worse for wear as he stepped carefully around a now meowing Crookshanks and gave Hermione a kiss. 

“Shall I make us some breakfast?” he asked.

Hermione nodded and Crookshanks meowed louder. Viktor poured himself a cup of coffee adding hangover cure to it. Three sips later he started pulling things from the fridge.

He filled Crookshanks’ bowl with a selection of fish and biscuits before placing it on the floor silencing the meowing instantly.

Ginny stumbled over as Viktor flipped the first pancake. She looked terrible. Hermione handed her a cup of coffee. They had no more hangover cure.

“How long has Viktor lived with you?” Ginny asked sleepily.

Hermione blinked at her and looked at Viktor who had gone very still. 

“About three weeks, his sister has taken over his flat.”

Hermione watched the tension ease from Viktor at her words.

“He has been looking for a place but there’s no rush. I’ve been quite enjoying having him around. Even if he does leave his clothes everywhere.”

Ginny scoffed and Hermione looked back at the newspaper. Viktor placed several pancakes on the table and a bottle of maple syrup. 

“Oh yes, I’m the one who leaves them everywhere. Your habit of charming my shirts off has absolutely nothing to do with it.”

Ginny laughed and then they all held their heads at the loud noise. 

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked looking around.

“In the bathtub. He said it was the most comfortable place he had ever been and insisted on sleeping there. I tossed a blanket or two in with him but I doubt he used them,” Ginny said pulling the pancakes closer.

“He’s going to regret that,” Viktor muttered turning back to the stove. 

Hermione returned her attention to the paper and let out a long sigh.

“Skeeter?” Viktor asked.

“She’s now of the opinion you are my live in sex slave,” Hermione said still reading.

“She didn’t say sex slave did she?” Ginny asked leaning across to read over Hermione’s shoulder. 

Harry emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later looking more than a little worse for wear. He eyed the pancakes suspiciously.

“I can make you shkembe chorba for you,” Viktor offered.

“Don’t eat it,” Hermione warned. “It translates to dragon’s breath and it lives up to its name.” 

Harry lowered himself into a chair and swayed slowly back and forth.

“It’s also made with offal,” Hermione added. 

Harry slowly sank under the table with a pancake. Ginny scoffed.

“No stamina,” she said.

Harry mumbled a response but none of them could understand it as there was a knock at the door.

Viktor flipped his pancakes and went to answer it.

“Sofia, why are you here?” he asked.

Sofia wandered inside and stopped as she saw Harry lying on the floor the pancake now resting on his face.

“I came to warn you mother has arrived early. She’s very excited to hear that you are now living with Hermione. Something about wanting grandchildren. Why is that man on the floor?”

“Hangover,” Viktor explained. 

“Give him some shkembe chorba, he’ll be fine.”

Harry groaned curling into a ball.

“She isn’t expected for another two days,” Viktor said.

“She apparently extended her stay so she could go shopping.” Sofia grabbed a pancake and drowned it in maple syrup. “She also said to ask if you and Hermione would like to do dinner tonight, something about important business.”

Viktor sighed heavily and looked at Hermione who shrugged. 

“We may as well,” she said. Viktor sighed and pulled out his phone. There was a retching sound and Hermione heard Ginny mutter about Harry’s stamina once more as she waved her wand.

 

At six o’clock that evening Viktor led Hermione through the restaurant to his mother’s table. Upon their arrival Mrs Krum rose and kissed both of them on the cheek.

“It’s lovely to see you both. Come sit, let’s order some food.” She signaled the waiter.

Hermione and Viktor sat obediently and took the offered menus. Mrs Krum waited until after they had ordered and the waiter had left before speaking again.

“I have some concerns, no not about you dear,” Mrs Krum gently patted Hermione’s hand. “The stories that are told about your relationship in the press. They are not good. I would say they are most unpleasant, and I hope inaccurate/”

Mrs Krum gave them both a very severe look. Viktor and Hermione nodded quickly.

“Highly inaccurate.”

“All lies.”

Mrs Krum nodded and continued.

“I did a little research and I have found someone to do an interview with you. They are published internationally, highly regarded and most importantly,” she slid a card across the table to them. “They hate Rita Skeeter. So I expect you will get a much fairer story. Do it this week, I want to read one good story about your relationship while I’m here.”

They nodded. Viktor handed Hermione the card and she smiled. 

“Do you know them?” Viktor asked.

Hermione put the card down and smiled.

“I believe I do,” she said. 

Mrs Krum and Viktor exchanged a look but Hermione stayed silent a small smile playing around her mouth as she occasionally looked at the card. 

Their entrees arrived and Mrs Krum turned the conversation to Bulgaria in the spring ad summer. She waxed poetic in English and Bulgarian about how beautiful the flowers and the lakes were. 

She also seemed keen to talk about Viktor’s brief time at Hogwarts, saying he had been far too shy as a teenager. “My own fault. I warned him a bit too strongly about the dangers of those who might use his fame against him. He tended to be extra surly as a result.”

Viktor sat through it all somewhat tense as his mother went on about the lovely letters he had sent and how surprised she had been not to meet Hermione when they had visited.

“I am afraid I had an exam that morning then I was otherwise occupied that afternoon with Harry and the Weasleys.”

“I do remember seeing them. Viktor pointed you out to me in the Great Hall. I had been surprised to discover for myself the lack of a relationship between yourself and Harry.

But after a few minutes watching you interact I knew there was nothing to Viktor’s concerns.”

“Mama,” Viktor said pleadingly.

“Now Viktor, it was perfectly natural for you to worry. You were rather smitten at the time and a young man of limited experiences. Again my fault, I really should have taken you off that broom more often and made you talk to people.” Mrs Krum patted Viktor’s cheek affectionately. She smiled at Hermione.

“He was rather unprepared. If not for Sophia and Sergei I would likely have been quite in despair of his social skills.”

“Why thank you Mother, it is so good to know you were in despair of my ability to talk to people,” Viktor said.

“It was never your ability to talk to people as you well know. A few months in your father’s kitchen ensured that. I was more concerned with your seeming lack of interest in anything that wasn’t broomstick related. Thank God Fleur took pity on you, otherwise you might still be that surly young man.”

“I wasn’t always surly,” Viktor protested.

“Fleur took pity on you?” Hermione asked looking at Viktor.

Viktor turned a little pink.

“It was after the end of the tournament. I asked her how to impress a girl. Once I convinced her that my interest was not in her she was most helpful. We were both practicing our English and so had a sort of book club via letters.”

“What sort of books?” Hermione asked. 

Viktor sighed and mumbled something into his wine glass. Mrs Krum rolled her eyes.

“Really Viktor,” she said. 

He sighed and turned to Hermione.

“Romances. We both read romances. It started with a lot of Arthurian legend, then Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters, and then we both sort of shifted to read more modern ones. It’s one of the reasons I know so much about non-magical things.”

Hermione smiled at him. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I did wonder how you learned to be so romantic. When I met you as a teenager you seemed rather more awkward.”

Viktor scoffed.

“I was never awkward. I was always charming,” he said.

“McGonagall,” Hermione replied. 

Viktor gave her a very betrayed look as their dessert arrived.

His mother seemed very pleased. She signaled the waiter and dropped a credit card on the tray.

“It is getting too late for me. I will leave you both to your dessert,” she said with a smile. 

She picked up her handbag and rising, kissed them both on the cheek.

“Hermione, I am so glad to have properly met you at last. I can see now that Viktor didn’t exaggerate at all. You are as brilliant and beautiful as he said. I am sure I will see you again soon.”

Hermione nodded.

“It’s been lovely to get to know you Mrs Krum,” she said.

Mrs Krum turned to Viktor and gave him a surprisingly severe look.

“Two years Viktor, you have two years.” She then patted his cheek and collected her card and receipt from the waiter.

“Look after each other and Sophia.” She gave them both one more kiss on the cheek.

“Oh and Hermione, I shall be back in a month or two with my husband. We would be delighted to make the acquaintance of your parents when we do. Dovizhdane.”

She left the restaurant collecting her coat at the door.

Hermione who had watched her go turned back to Viktor.

“What did she mean?” she asked.

Viktor sighed heavily.

“My mother is keen for me to get married and start a family. I however am far more patient. Do have some of this cake, it is excellent.”

Viktor offered her a bite of his food. Hermione accepted. It was indeed excellent. 

“Your mother’s English is very good.”

“She spent a couple of years here in her youth. My grandmother was a member of the Bulgarian ministry at the time and came over to improve relations after Grindelwald. There was a lot of that sort of thing for a while. Years later she became a member of the Bulgarian department for international cooperation, did a lot with the Americans. Later she taught it to Sophia and I as children. My father taught us French.”

“Yes, I remember you mentioning. He learnt it for culinary school.”

“Yes, his father insisted upon it. Nothing but the best training for his son. I suppose it paid off in the end. Though I never understood why as my grandfather always hated French chefs. Probably the pastry, he always did admire the French desserts.” 

Viktor seemed lost in thought for a few minutes as he considered his grandfather’s motivations. Hermione looked at the reporter’s card once more and smiled. How she could have missed this she didn’t know. She’d seen him just last month after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is coming very soon with it's mystery journalist.


	10. The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Viktor do an interview with the gossip columnist.

Viktor was running very late. He came racing up to Hermione from the nearby alleyway covered in what appeared to be leaves.

“Long story,” he said pausing to catch his breath. 

Hermione blasted air from her wand to remove the leaves as quickly as she could before they entered together.

The journalist had booked a private room in the Leaky Cauldron for the interview. After a brief chat with Tom, Hermione and Viktor headed upstairs to find the room. 

It was small and dark with large leather couches and some sad-looking plants on tables. The window showed only a view of rooftops and railway lines. Seeing no journalist they sat on one of the couches and waited. It wasn’t long before a figure entered clearly covered in a Disillusionment charm.

“Hello Malfoy,” Hermione said with a smile. 

Draco Malfoy sighed and removed the spell. 

“You knew?” he asked.

“Your card gave you away. The silver and green embossing was a bit much.”

Draco scoffed, clearly disagreeing. Hermione smiled at him and continued. 

“I must admit I was surprised to find out you’re the most popular gossip columnist in wizarding Europe. Though now I think about it, it does make sense. You always did have a certain wit.”

Draco flinched slightly. He came forward and sat on the couch opposite them as Hermione kept talking. 

“The name intrigues me though. James Bond. I wasn’t aware you were familiar with the books.”

Draco nodded and gave her a small smile. 

“I was introduced to the films a few years ago. I rather enjoyed them. You might find it hard to believe but I’ve become quite the film buff in recent years. So has my mother actually,” Draco said flicking some imaginary dirt from his robes. 

Hermione noticed Draco was still exceedingly dramatic. He wore neat black robes with touches of green and gold throughout. One large emerald earring hung from his left ear doing a surprisingly good job of highlighting his eyes.

“I understand you are willing to give an interview about your relationship. Bit of a new thing for you isn’t it Granger? Last I heard you avoided interviews like the plague.”

He was teasing her. Hermione grinned at him.

“This isn’t my first interview Malfoy. I have simply avoided gossip columnists. I find their writing tends to be… lazy,” Hermione said.

Malfoy glared and got out his quill muttering about ‘other writers maybe’. He conjured a roll of parchment and carefully laid it out on the table between them. 

“How’s Scorpius?” Hermione asked.

Draco paused and Hermione saw a proud smile creep over his face.

“Much better. He still has some trouble with his left ear, but he’s able to balance by himself now. Thank you.” 

“Scorpius?” Viktor asked.

“Draco’s son. He had an incident with his mother’s wand. Got it jammed in his left ear. When they rushed him into St Mungo’s I was the one who treated him,” Hermione explained.

“I am very glad it was you. Anyone else and he might have lost his hearing entirely,” Draco said. 

“He’s a very sweet boy, I’m sure he would have pulled through.”

Draco nodded that same proud smile on his face at Hermione’s words. He sat back and pointed his wand at the quill which stood upright, waiting. Draco took a long breath and turned to them with a very neutral expression. 

“If I remember correctly you attended the Yule Ball together. Tell me about that. How did you meet?” Draco asked.

Hermione looked to Viktor who sighed heavily.

“Would you like to tell him or shall I?” she asked.

“We didn’t exactly meet,” Viktor said. “I overheard her talking a few times in the library and became curious about her. Then I found out a little about her, her name, her connection to Harry and so on. I became more and more intrigued. I spent a lot of time in the library trying to work up the courage to speak to her.”

Draco raised an eyebrow.

“I was rather shy then,” Viktor explained.

“The gang of your admirers didn’t help,” Hermione said with a smile.

“They certainly made it harder,” Viktor agreed. “Then the Yule ball was announced and I knew I wanted to take her. I was absolutely terrified she would be asked by someone else first.”

Hermione scoffed. Draco said nothing as his pen raced across the parchment copying everything down. It seemed to change colour depending on who spoke.

“I knew I had to ask her soon, but that meant talking to her. Something I had not quite managed to do yet. You were very hard to get alone,” Viktor looked at Hermione and she gave him a warm smile. 

“You were always surrounded by Harry and Ron or other Gryffindors. I was quite despairing. But I finally got my chance. One day I found her alone in the library frantically flicking through a book. I was standing behind a bookshelf doing my usual attempts to work up the courage to say something, then suddenly she was leaving the library. I might have panicked a little knowing this was probably the only opportunity I would get. But when I approached her the only word I could get out was her name which I completely mangled.”

“To this day I have no idea what he said but it certainly got my attention,” Hermione said. 

“Finally having her attention I then very clearly told her that I thought she was very pretty and interesting. I said I understood she might have a date already but I wasn’t about to miss my chance, and then I asked her to the ball. I was very proud of myself until I realised I’d said everything in Bulgarian.”

Draco scoffed.

“All my English had deserted me but I was determined to still ask her. So I tried to use sign language. But then I started getting so nervous that I ended up just pointing at her then myself over and over while trying to remember how to say anything in English. The situation wasn’t helped when Ginny Weasley turned up and watched with a very confused look on her face. Finally I managed to get out the words Yule Ball which is when help arrived.”

Viktor looked at Hermione who smiled and continued the story.

“Professor McGonagall walked past in time to see him pointing and finally saying ‘Yule ball’ while I continued to stand there completely bewildered by what was happening.”

Draco smiled sympathetically at Viktor.

“The Professor then informed Hermione that I was likely trying to invite her to the ball. Then the moment she said yes I could speak English again. After that we actually had our first conversation, which was rather pleasant. I believe we talked about transfiguration.”

They fell silent as the quill continued to write.

“And how was the ball?” Draco asked.

“It was a wonderful night. We talked and danced and had a very lovely time,” Hermione said breezily.

“I heard you and Weasley had a big fight that night,” Draco said smirking at Hermione. Hermione noticed it was different to the one he’d worn as a teenager, less superior more amused. 

Hermione sighed.

“Ron might have taken issue with my going with Viktor,” she admitted.

“Did he know before the ball you were going with Viktor?”

“No, he found out when everyone else did. He didn’t even know I had a date for the ball until he asked me as a last resort.”

“Weasley asked you to the Yule ball,” Draco said surprised.

Hermione nodded and shrugged.

“As I said, I was kind of a last resort.”

Draco glanced at his quill which changed ink colour and made several notes.

“Did anyone know you two were going together?” he asked.

“My friend Sergei knew but I don’t think I told anyone else,” Viktor looked at Hermione.

“Ginny Weasley of course, having witnessed the whole thing. She promised not to tell anyone though. And as far as I’m aware she never did. At least not Ron since he spent the lead up to the ball trying to find out who I was going with,” Hermione said. 

“So it was a big secret?” Draco asked.

“Not on purpose. We just didn’t tell a lot of people,” Viktor said.

Draco’s quill made more notes.

“The fight?” He asked.

“Ron found Viktor and I about to go for a picnic. He quite overreacted,” Hermione said.

“A picnic?” Draco asked incredulously. 

“I got food from the kitchens and my broom, we were going to go for a flight over the grounds and planned to have a midnight snack by the lake,” Viktor said.

“And what else were you going to do by the lake?” Draco asked with another smirk.

Viktor coughed and said nothing. Draco looked at Hermione who suddenly found a nearby pot plant very interesting. They heard the quill scratching on the parchment.

“So the fight was over you two going on a picnic?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Viktor said. “He insisted I was an enemy and that I was just taking Hermione out to, compromise her integrity.”

Draco said nothing but his quill moved faster.

“This resulted in me yelling denials, Hermione saying some very creative things about his intelligence and the whole thing getting increasingly ugly. I’m not sure what would have happened if it kept going but Karkaroff turned up and we were separated. I was taken back to the ship and they were sent to their dormitories. Not the end of the night I had been hoping for.”

Draco nodded.

“Did you see each other after?” he asked.

“Quite a few times. It was hard with everything that was going on but we did spend time together. We went for that flight around the grounds, actually several flights. I might have enjoyed showing off my skills in the air. Apart from that we spent some time studying together and I even got a kiss every now and then,” Viktor said.

“Just one kiss every now and then?” Draco pressed.

For a moment both Viktor and Hermione had a flashback to the one time things had gotten a little heavy handed behind some shelves in the library. They shuddered at the same moment as they remembered Madame Pince’s discovery of the two of them.

“Just one kiss every now and then,” Hermione insisted. 

“Not even on your many flights around the grounds?” Draco asked leaning forwards slightly.

Viktor and Hermione tried not to react as memories of just what had happened every time they had tried flickered before their eyes. Madame Hooch catching them kissing on the Quidditch pitch, Hagrid’s discovery of them at the edges of the forbidden forest, Fred and George just happening to walk into the secret passageway they were in, and of course that time Trelawney had discovered them on top of the astronomy tower. They’d given up anything more than a quick kiss after that experience. 

“No,” they said in unison. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. They held his gaze. 

“Mostly we just spent time in the library in the brief periods I wasn’t with Harry and Ron. After everything that went down at the end of the third task we had a lot of trouble meeting up. When it was time to leave we hugged and he asked me to please write,” Hermione said.

“And did you write?” Draco asked.

“Oh yes,” Hermione said. “We’ve kept a correspondence going ever since. We saw each other about once or twice a year since I graduated. Mostly for weddings, Quidditch matches and the like. It was a very solid and important friendship to the both of us, and it just became something more recently. His move and my divorce sort of gave us the space and time to re-examine our feelings and our relationship.”

“Interesting,” Draco said looking at Viktor. “Why did you decide to come play in the English league, it wasn’t for a chance at Granger here was it? I heard you joined the team the day after you had dinner with Granger, then a very short time later Weasley had acquired divorce papers. The timing is certainly interesting.”

“I didn’t move here for a chance with Hermione. Though she was the one who convinced me to play. You see, my eyes are deteriorating. They have been for a while.”

Draco’s quill had paused for a moment and then written much faster than before. Hermione watched Viktor as he seemed to struggle with his words. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“So this is your last season?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Viktor said. “I am only able to play in this league because it allows me the time to rest my eyes between matches. I had been interested in playing a final year or two in the international league before moving onto something different, but that became increasingly impossible. I admit I was a little afraid, my last game having been rather disastrous as a result of my failing vision. I had quite given up hope of playing again.”

“But then you were offered a place in the English league?” Draco pressed.

“Yes, an English team offered me a place. But I hadn’t actually anticipated playing. I went to the meeting more as a cover for meeting with an eye specialist than considering the offer. I was afraid I would fail you see. I wanted to play in a lower league knowing I would be able to look after my eyes more, but I felt that was some kind of, inappropriate move. Even if I would enjoy it immensely.”

“Then what changed your mind?” Draco asked.

“It was dinner with Hermione that convinced me to play again. We made a deal you see. I play, and she studies. I consulted with my experts and they assured me that I would do no damage if I stuck to a strict schedule. So I signed. Then I went to every Muggle university in Britain and got information for her about the course she wanted. That was what we talked about over dinner. Both of us were facing decisions about our careers and what we wanted to be doing. After hearing her talk about it I knew she had to go to study.”

“Muggle university?” Draco asked.

Hermione nodded.

“I am studying psychology. It’s an area I have found significantly lacking in medical magic. I intend to combine the best of both and hopefully devise better treatment for PTSD sufferers in the wizarding world.”

“PTSD?”

“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The war did a lot of damage both mentally and physically. Much of the physical trauma has been healed but I have increasingly found the mental scars remain. There have been lasting health concerns for sufferers in quite a few ways. A colleague of mine is currently researching the affects of the war on our generation. So far they have found, particularly among at risk groups, significant mental trauma and declining health outcomes.”

“The war made us sick?” Draco asked.

“Very. Their hypothesis is that the war is the cause behind the current health crisis that has been ongoing. With a lack of appropriate mental health services and awareness among the magical population it’s been showing up in other ways. Such as the recent flu epidemic, the surge of violent crime, and the abuse of sleeping draughts. There’s only so much you can do with magic. There’s also a tendency among the magical world to look for an immediate fix which doesn’t really work with mental health. We need to start engaging with Muggle knowledge if we want to progress.”

“Just how bad is it?” Draco asked, his quill once more racing across the parchment.

“The magical medical community has been talking about this for years now. There is an ongoing mental health crisis that is reaching epidemic levels. It is an incredibly serious situation. More and more healers have been turning to Muggle treatments and research as a way of trying to understand what’s happening. We’ve been screaming about this in academic circles for the better part of a decade now.”

Draco looked from Hermione to Viktor.

“This interview is going to take a lot longer than I had expected,” he said.

“I’m guessing my mother led you believe this would be a small piece,” Viktor said with a smile. Draco nodded.

“Let’s go back to your relationship. I have my photographer due in an hour to take some pictures for my article. But I would appreciate if you would both be kind enough to meet with me again later this week to talk about your retirement from Quidditch and the ongoing health crisis.”

Viktor and Hermione smiled at Draco.


	11. Their parents meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their parents have decided it's time they met face to face to discusss, things.

It turned out Draco didn’t write one article, he wrote eight in less than a week and dozens in the weeks following. The impact of these articles was near immediate, setting the magical world into fierce debate in rather unexpected ways.

The effect of Quidditch on children became a hotly debated topic, with parenting groups calling for changes to the game. The International Quidditch Confederation held an emergency meeting about how to protect their athletes. Health experts from around the world were being called in everywhere to assess players and advise how best to protect them. Hermione had gotten a letter herself from the English league.

But the furor in the sports world was nothing to the news of the mental health crisis in Britain. It was front page news for weeks as politicians scrambled to explain why more hadn’t been done to increase awareness about mental health problems after the war. 

PTSD was blamed for everything from the high incidence of violent crime to the breakup of the Weird Sisters. Promises were made, funding was doubled, new programs were planned. Three weeks later it looked like everything was settling down when the cuts to mental health funding were found to coincide with the recent uptick in violent crime and it became front page news again. 

The best part for Hermione though was the change in the gossip section. Draco had written two very long, very nice pieces which were reprinted and republished in multiple wizarding magazines. They were actually rather sweet, telling of their first date and their long standing friendship, as well as some details about the progression of their romantic relationship. But it was the little snide comments about the previous articles that gave her most joy. Draco had always been bitingly funny and he seemed to take extra pleasure in tearing apart Rita’s articles.

His connection of their long ago dinner to Viktor’s move and her studies gave everything else extra weight. Almost overnight the torrent of angry letters she’d been getting changed to messages of support and admiration for all that she had been through.

His comments about Ron were perhaps a little harsh, especially around their school years, but Hermione found it somewhat satisfying to see him get just a little taste of what she’d dealt with. Draco wrote a whole piece about their divorce including a correction about the fight with Ron, and while it didn’t provide a very flattering light to Ron at all it at least had stopped the speculation of an affair. What he said was rather flattering actually. The article had quotes from, much to her surprise, Harry, Ernie, Mr Weasley and Ginny.   
But perhaps best of all, Rita’s name hadn’t appeared in the Daily Prophet for several weeks now. According to Luna it was because of the torrent of owls they had received about how she had been smearing the name of a war hero for months when the truth had been far more innocent. Considering the history of the Prophet and propaganda, they were really trying to distance themselves.

Over lunch Ginny told Hermione that even Ron seemed to be coming around at last, though that might have been because of what had happened after Mrs Weasley read about their divorce in Witch Weekly. Apparently Ron had told his mother a few false truths when he’d gone back home.

After he’d recovered from their visit and his mother’s anger Ron had left the Aurors’ office and went to work with Fred. He sent Hermione a letter from France. It wasn’t quite an apology but Hermione was relieved to finally have him talking to her again, even if it was only two paragraphs letting her know what he was doing and asking her for ideas of what to see and what was safe to eat. As much as she was loving her relationship with Viktor she did miss Ron. He was still one of her best friends, even if he was a total git.

 

Hermione sat on the couch in a long blue evening dress reading the evening paper as Viktor walked through the door still in his Quidditch robes. He looked exhausted but greeted her with a smile and a kiss.

“Are you ready for tonight?” he asked.

“Yes, are you? You look exhausted,” she said.

“Wood has given half the team the flu and we have the semi finals tomorrow. The coach seemed to be dying a little as he realised half the chasers were flying with a fever. With the pressure at the moment about athlete health, he’s not coping,” Viktor said heading for the bathroom.

Crookshanks leapt onto the table and begun rubbing his face into her hand.

“You stay over there. The last thing I need is for you to cover me in hair before dinner,” she said firmly.

Crookshanks leapt into her lap and rubbed his face over her dress. Hermione sighed heavily and put the paper down. She gave in to the purring and sat patting Crookshanks as she waited for Viktor.

 

Viktor emerged from the bedroom to see Hermione with Crookshanks pawing at her hair. He smiled as she sighed heavily.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“I think you need to feed Crooksie first, and I need to fix my hair,” Hermione said.

Viktor nodded smiling as Crookshanks pawed free the final clip holding her hair up.

Hermione made a frustrated noise as her hair sprang free and tumbled around her face. She retrieved the clip from Crookshanks and headed to the bathroom. Viktor patted Crookshanks and headed to the fridge.

“Be nice you,” he ordered. “You know she’s worried about dinner. Our parents are meeting for the first time and you know they’re going to be talking about scary things.”

Crookshanks meowed loudly as he unwrapped the cat friendly sushi he had made. Crookshanks kept meowing loudly as he carefully plated his food and placed it on the floor.

“I spent two hours making that and you don’t seem to care,” Viktor said, watching Crookshanks dismantle the neat plating to chow down on the salmon.

Hermione returned her hair once more in place and after a final check they had everything they disapparated.

His parents had chosen the restaurant. It was some type of Asian fusion, fine dining hidden down a side street in a major shopping district. It was the kind of place that had a three month wait for a booking and a salad that was more art than food. Viktor’s father had some acquaintance with the head chef and so was sure of the cleanliness of the kitchen and the standards of food that would be served. Other than that, they didn’t know what to expect. Viktor hoped the wine selection was good.

Hermione and Viktor were a few minutes late and hesitant as they entered. As suspected their parents were already there and looking rather too chummy. Henry was also expected, but had been delayed by traffic, and Sophia of course was running very late. 

They approached the table and greetings were exchanged: kisses from their mothers and a hug from Hermione’s father. Hermione looked at Viktor’s father. He was tall and thin with black hair and the faintest tinge of grey to his beard and mustache. She saw exactly where Viktor’s nose had come from. Mr Krum held out a hand.

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” he said giving her a soft smile. 

Hermione shook his hand. It was heavily scarred and several shiny burns were evident. She looked at them surprised.

“In the kitchen, you often don’t have time for magic. Unlike many of my fellows I find great food is best accomplished through the hands not the wand,” he said in explanation. 

“How interesting, is that not typical?” Mr Granger asked. 

Mr Krum shook his head.

“No, most do not pursue my career but it was handed to me through my family. My father’s side. He was a chef, and he insisted I do not use magic in the kitchen, except in dealing with pests. I have taught my children to follow these rules. Sophia of course works in a kitchen. Alas she does not have great passion for it but she is quite talented as a saucier and enjoys the hours.” He patted Viktor fondly on the shoulder. “Viktor of course was destined for a different path. Though he has the passion. He has great passion for many things.”

Mr Krum’s eyes flicked to Hermione briefly.

“Does magic affect the taste of food?” Mr Granger asked.

Mr Krum shook his head.

“My father was not a wizard you see, he came from France actually. A very skilled chef. He came to Bulgaria with the war and fell in love. So he stayed and built a restaurant for my mother with his bare hands. She offered magical help but he turned it down saying the important part was his labour for her, not the restaurant itself. In his life he earned a Michelin star.”

Mr Krum, it turned out, was surprisingly chatty. 

“He said it was one of his proudest moments, surpassed only by the birth of his children and then of Viktor. He died shortly after Viktor was born. It was very sad he never met Sophia, they are very alike you see.”

As if her name had been a summoning charm Sophia dropped into a chair with a bright smile offering her hand to Hermione’s parents. 

“Sophia Krum, pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said.

Mrs Krum sniffed.

“What are you wearing Sophia?” she asked.

Sophia looked down at herself. She was wearing a very disheveled grey suit with a bright pink shirt with a loose blue tie. Her hair by contrast was neatly styled with all the green tips standing up perfectly. She looked somewhat like a spiky ball. Hermione suspected that was the intention.

“I didn’t have time to fix it. We had a mountain of prep and were short staffed,” she said.

Mrs Krum sighed and got out her wand.

“My apologies,” she said to the Grnagers before pointing her wand at Sophia. Sophia tensed and coughed as the creases fell from the suit, the buttons on her shirt did themselves up and the tie shot upwards and straightened.

Sophia tugged at her collar making quiet choking noises as Henry arrived. He shook everyone’s hand as introductions were made. He stopped at Sophia and blinked for a moment before grinning brightly.

“I love your hair,” he said sitting next to her. 

Sophia finally managed to loosen her tie and shirt as she shook Henry’s hand. 

“Thanks, so what relation are you?” she asked.

“I am a close friend of Hermione’s family.”

“You’re her Uncle in every way but the legal. I insist you accept this,” Mr Granger said giving Henry a smile.

Henry smiled back.

“I am her Uncle,” he conceded. 

“And what do you do?” Sophia asked.

“I predominantly work with at risk youth, helping them find themselves and a path forward,” Henry said.

“How very selfless. I approve,” Mrs Krum said picking up her wine. 

“What do you do?” Henry asked Sophia.

“Oh I work as a chef, like my father. He of course is the head chef. He and my mother own several restaurants in Bulgaria.” 

Sophia said everything with a bright smile while her mother watched through narrowed eyes. 

Conversation broke out naturally as they ordered. It turned out Mr Krum had a passing interest in cars during his youth. He then explained racing brooms to Mr Granger as Mrs Granger explained dentistry to Mrs Krum. Sophia and Henry got along surprisingly well, the two of them sharing a mutual interest in punk rock. 

Hermione and Viktor sat peacefully among it all as they let the various conversations flow around them. The food was exceedingly beautiful and the head chef came out at one point to shake their hands. Viktor gently held Hermione's hand under the table as they made it through to dessert and a raging debate about how much spice was too much with Sophia, Henry and Mr Granger against Mrs Granger, Mr Krum and Mrs Krum. 

It culminated in both groups turning to Viktor and Hermione who were sitting there quite calmly eating their way through a very elaborate creme brulee.

As Viktor silently offered Hermione his blueberries they all fell silent. Mrs Krum turned to Mrs Granger.

“Bulgaria in the Spring, we’ll cover the cost of the catering.” 

Mrs Granger beamed.

“Sounds lovely. I’ll make sure there’s space in the calendar.”

Viktor and Hermione both froze and looked at their parents suspiciously. 

“For what?” Hermione asked.

“The wedding darling. In two years,” Mrs Krum said.

Viktor started choking as Hermione looked at their parents alarmed.

 

Hermione and Viktor chose to walk home from the restaurant. The goodbyes had been long and tedious as their parents kept starting new conversations as they stood around the doorway. Finally Hermione and Viktor managed to disentangle themselves and head for home. Neither spoke for a while as they slowly made their way through the city.

“Hermione,” Viktor began. “I saw an ad for a place that would probably be good for me and I uh, I want to know, is this too fast, would you um, would you mind if I continued to live with you or would you prefer I move out?”

Hermione turned to Viktor. He looked rather nervous standing under the streetlight rubbing the back of his neck. 

“It is okay if you wish for more space. I will understand.”

She could hear his accent now, a sure sign he was nervous about his question. She looked at him considering. 

She hadn’t moved in with Ron until they were engaged, this had been for several reasons but it had also been what she felt an entirely appropriate amount of time. Viktor and her had barely been dating a few months and he already lived with her. 

She stood on tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“I want you to stay, if you want to stay,” she said.

Viktor seemed to let out a long breath then he bent down and kissed her.

“I want to stay,” he whispered. 

Hermione smiled and slowly they separated walking on towards their home. Hermione smiled as she thought about it. She looked up at Viktor and saw he was smiling too. 

As she lay curled around him that night Hermione felt safer than she ever had before. She turned and looked down at his peacefully sleeping face. Something in her felt so relaxed and calm as she looked at him. The words sort of found their way out without her meaning them to.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His eyes flickered open.

“I love you too. I have from the moment I first danced with you.”

“Even while I was-”

“I have loved you from the moment I first danced with you and for every moment since,” Viktor said.

Hermione stared at him speechless.

“But I broke up with you at the end of that year, I married another man, I-”

“Just because I loved you didn’t mean I expected or required you to love me back in the same way. You are your own woman Hermione, and you had the right to choose another man. Yes, I was sad to see you marry him, but I was also so very very happy to always have you as my friend. He made you happy, and that’s all I’ve wanted for you. I want you to be happy. Even if that meant you weren't with me.”

Hermione leaned down and kissed him over and over and over again.

“Oh Viktor, you make me happy. You always have and I’m so sorry if I ever hurt you in the past,” she whispered between kisses.

Viktor kissed her back pulling her closer and whispering back in Bulgarian. He told her he loved her, and that would never change. He told her all the reasons why, whispering them in her ear in Bulgarian as he removed their clothes. He told her how he had tried to fall for other women but she had always been the one for him. 

He confessed it all as he slid between her legs and made love to her. He confessed how he had thought of her every night, how he’d worried during the war, how no other woman had managed to hold his interest the way she had. He felt her clench around him and he moaned her name over and over again as he came inside her. 

Afterwards they lay wrapped around each other breathing heavily.

Hermione looked at Viktor and gave him a kiss. 

“You waited for me didn’t you, it’s why you’d never-”

“I never really wanted to admit that to myself. I knew you loved Ron and I thought you would stay with him forever, have children. I hoped then that maybe I would be able to move on eventually. I thought that once I finished playing, when I had time to be myself maybe then I would be ready to meet someone and settle down.”

“When I told you about the divorce, you didn’t try anything, even though-”

“It would have been rather predatory to try and take advantage. No, I wanted you to chose me on your own terms, I never wanted to push you into it. It occurred to me in the abstract but I had never really thought you would one day be interested in me in that way.”

Hermione was silent for a moment then she smiled at Viktor.

“Three years, Bulgaria in the spring and I want the proposal to be a surprise,” she said.

Viktor gaped at her, then he smiled, then he laughed.

“Yes Miss Granger,” he said with a smile. 

Hermione laughed and rolled on top of him.

“Considering how many years you waited, I’ve done the math and worked out just how much sex you’ve missed out on.”  
Hermione leaned down and whispered the number in his ear.

“I think given the same time period we could at the very least catch you up on what you’ve missed.”

Viktor grinned.

“Yes, yes I think we could certainly try at least.”

Hermione kissed him once more.

“Shall we count this as one?” she asked her hand moving down his body.

Viktor nodded quickly.

“Yes,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay I've been sick. Next chapters are all written just waiting for the final edits.


End file.
